Sunset
by Ellee Fitzgerald
Summary: Same storyline and sometimes exact words as Twilight, but instead of vampires, mermaids. "Bella" is a boy who falls for a monster girl. Kinda long, not really a quick read.
1. Chapter 1 First Sight

My father drove me to the airport with the windshield wipers furiously pumping. The sky dumped bucket loads of rain from thick grey clouds. A normal day in Forks, Washington, the place I had lived for sixteen years. I wore my favorite thick sweatshirt, despite my destination.

I was heading to the last place on earth I belonged. Sunny, hot, disgusting Los Angeles. Way too many people in one place to be healthy. The rotten city I had been prodded into staying in for two weeks every summer of my life; the place my mother lived. I preferred my lush green haven and my down to earth father.

My dad was my role model, the only person I had ever trusted. He was just like me, the same curly dark hair and dark green eyes, but with more wrinkles. He had met Susan, the new love of his life, two years ago. She was great; the mother I wish had been mine. They were perfect together and I knew I was the only thing holding them from getting married. Dad had sat down with me a couple months ago and told me about their plans. That was something I loved most about my father; he never dumbed anything down for me. Everyone spent all their time trying not to hurt my feelings and that made me the angriest.

"You're sure you want to do this Dan? We can wait, wait till you finish school. I know you don't want to do this and I know what a sacrifice this is." My dad's gruff voice penetrated my thoughts as I stared out the window.

"I want to do this. I'm old enough to make my own decisions now, dad." My not-nearly-as-deep voice responded. Finally arriving, we picked up my bags and got out of the car. I only had a half-full duffel bag for my clothes and a backpack stuffed with books. I walked quickly, not wanting to miss the flight.

When we reached the hallway leading onto the plane, I turned awkwardly to my father. We were so similar, including our inability to show emotion. I pulled my head up and looked at him. He was staring back at me.

"Daniel, thank you. I know Los Angeles is not the place you prefer. But you're a great kid, you'll make it anywhere. I love you, son."

Oh, no. Not this. I wasn't good at this. I loved him too, more than anyone else I knew. He knew that.

I sighed. "You too dad. I'll be fine. I can blend in pretty well. Bye, dad."

"Bye, Daniel."

And with that, I picked up my bags and walked down the runway, trying my best to camouflage myself on the way.

I spent most of the plane ride listening to music, though I couldn't really hear the music for my thoughts. My dad told me I thought too much all the time.

I thought about Betsy. I should really get into the habit of calling her mom, but the title didn't fit her. She was nice enough but that was just a façade. She worked all day, spent the night with different men. I knew all of this going into the deal. I had never loved her like a mom, and I knew she saw me as a kind of pain. I registered myself for high school and already had plans to look for a job. I knew I'd be doing this by myself; I was fine with it.

When the plane landed I rolled my window up, instantly blinded by the sun. I groaned loudly, picking up my bag and shimmying down the aisle.

I walked into the huge parking lot with the sun blazing in my face, unsuccessfully looking for Betsy. She pulled up in front of me in her Mercedes talking on her phone. Gesturing at the door, she smiled briefly before looking in the other direction. I sighed and got in the car.

The entire ride was her chattering into her cell phone between sips of iced coffee. I kept my eyes out the window, trying to tune her out. The sun baked everything to a smelly, hot melding pot. Everyone was dripping sweat with horrible sun burn. It disgusted me. Deep in my thoughts, I didn't know Betsy was talking to me until she tapped my shoulder roughly. I turned to her, surprised she was acknowledging me.

"A client of mine had an extra car she couldn't pay for so got it cheap for you," she paused like she expected me to say something. "Well, you're welcome!" she said, irritated.

"Oh, um, thanks mom." I said, bewildered. A car? That would make things easier. I paid more attention in the last few minutes of our ride.

Eventually we made it to Betsy's house. My shiny, new-looking sports car with way too much horsepower for my own good looked daring in the driveway. It was beautiful, even I had to appreciate that, and it had a lot of room for my stuff. Behind the car stood the house, a beautiful mansion paid for by unlimited time in the office. My mother led me through the maze to my room then left quickly for dinner with a client. I was left with a Chinese take-out menu and digital cable.

My room was too big, with too much empty space to feel comfortable. I would never come close to filling it. I had a king-sized bed sitting under the biggest window I had ever seen in a bedroom. The curtains were open, pushing yellow light into my room. I moodily snapped them shut and continued exploring. There was my own private bathroom, which I appreciated, and a terrace overlooking our pool. If I got near that pool my skin would turn lobster red. Everything was wrong here.

I collapsed onto the too-new sheets and put my head in the pillows. They smelled good, but more like a hotel bed than a teenage boy's bed. There was no way I'd cry, but I was pretty close. But I wasn't in the mood to completely let go just yet.

The school I was going to contained over three thousand students. Three thousand cruel, gossiping teenagers just waiting to eat me alive. I had hardly become comfortable with the three hundred students in my school in Forks, with my one good friend Andrew. How would I find one good friend in all these strangers? I was the freaky, pasty new kid no one would want to go near. I would never blend with the thousands of beautiful, unique, tan blonde-haired blue-eyed kids that already had names for themselves. I was pale with dark hair and green eyes, an anomaly to say the least. I was horrible at sports and spent most of my time reading or thinking. What a loser.

I put my stuff away and went into my bathroom. I looked in the mirror, something I usually tried to avoid. Dark circles lay under my eyes, looking tired and weak. My face was slimmer than I remembered and my skin seemed unhealthy. More reasons for me to stand out in the new school.

I had never really related to people. I understood animals and nature better. Humans were so emotional, so unpredictable. Nature had a specific cause, a purpose. Most of my knowledge of people came from the numerous books I read. My dad was the closest person to me, and even he didn't seem to completely get me. That was probably why I spent all my time thinking instead of paying attention.

But I knew I couldn't change these things. I might as well start off fresh now.

I didn't sleep well that night, even after I wallowed in self-pity. Ambulances and police cars flashed and screamed through the streets all night long. I pulled the thick, unused pillows over my head but still didn't get to sleep until well after midnight.

When I woke up the maid had pulled the huge curtains open and burning bright sunlight yelled in my face. I could see the smog through the window rising in the morning and I had to fight the urge to stay in bed, out of the disgusting air.

Breakfast consisted of a granola bar on the way out the door. I spent twenty minutes trying to work the car, and another twenty finding my way to the school. I was too late to really pay attention to my surroundings, so I didn't notice anyone in the lockers around me. I grabbed my schedule and books and made my way to the front office.

A middle-aged tan, bleached blonde with hot pink nails smiled at me with false warmth from behind her computer. "Can I help you, son?"

"Uh, yes, I'm Daniel Strada, from Forks Washington, and I was wondering if I could have a map of campus? I'm not used to such a big-"

"Here you go, son, have a nice day." She cut me off, handing me the paper and turning back to her monitor. This was what I got for trying to be sociable. I took the paper and quickly walked out of the office.

My first class was nearby, a sign out front clearly labeling it English 3. There were five English classes, my map informed me. Nothing like the classes at home. I slipped into class and ducked my head on my way to the back desk that was open. The teacher noticed me towards the end of class, handing me a reading list and a semester guide. I had read each of the books on the list at least twice, but I nodded politely anyway. Mr. Mason, a tall, balding man, hardly looked me in the eyes before he turned back to the class to get it under control.

When the bell rang a tall Native American-looking girl with slick black hair and a warm smile turned to me. She seemed a bit overly-helpful. "Hi, you're new, aren't you? What's your next class?" about four people turned and stared at me, waiting for my response.

"Uh, yeah, I'm Dan. Next I have Government with Jefferson, in building six? But to tell you the truth I have no idea where I'm going." I replied honestly. She seemed nice enough.

"Okay! I'm Erica. I'm heading in that direction anyway. You're cute. Where'd you come from?" she said cheerfully, gathering her books and walking with me.

I blushed at her comment. "I moved from Forks, Washington. Today's my first day. Definitely different here from my old school." Again, honesty seemed easiest.

"I can tell you're new. But usually here just be yourself and you'll get respect." We had reached the class. She said goodbye and walked down the hall. I guess she counted as my first friend here.

The rest of the morning consisted of more unsuccessful blending in and questions about where I was from. I answered quickly, trying not to attract attention. I made one other friend, a nice guy named Jesse with shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. He was smart and funny but a little talkative for my taste. He prattled on enthusiastically about girls and teachers and classes, but I didn't try to keep up.

At lunch I sat with Jesse and his friends at their full table. He introduced them all but I couldn't remember a name to save my life. Erica waved at me across the cafeteria and I nodded back with fake enthusiasm. It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with complete strangers, that I first saw them.

They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where I sat as possible in the huge room. Out of the hundreds of people that separated us, they stood out easily. There were seven of them. They weren't talking, and they weren't eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. They weren't looking over at me, sneaking glances like the other students, so it was safe to stare at them without fear of meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was none of these things that caught, and held, my attention.

They didn't look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big- he had thick muscles with long, sleek black hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond with the same long hair. The last boy was lanky, less bulky with long reddish brown hair. They all looked too old to be in high school. They were slightly feminine looking but obviously strong and masculine. My self esteem definitely took a blow when I studied them.

The girls looked more alike. The first tall one looked like a goddess. She had a beautiful figure, the kind you saw on the cover of the _Sports Illustrated_ swimsuit issue, the kind every guy fantasized about. Her hair was golden with ringlets that went past her waist. The second tall girl was slimmer, with fewer curves, and had hair that was shiny black and also traveled past her waist. The shortest girl, a little shorter than me I judged, had somewhat shorter hair and sharper features. Her dark brown hair stopped in between her shoulder blades. The last girl was roughly as tall as me, looking younger, with wavy orange hair to her lower back. She was the most petite of them all.

All seven were paler than even me, with full, bright pink lips and electric blue eyes. They had bright eyes and bright faces, straight, perfect, angular, and slightly feminine. They were breathtaking, smooth and liquid in their movements, sharp and shocking in their looks.

But this was not why I couldn't look away.

I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. They were faces you never expected to see except perhaps on the airbrushed pages of a fashion magazine. Or painted by an old master as the face of an angel. It was hard to decide who was the most beautiful- maybe the perfect blond boy, or the red-haired girl.

They were all looking away- away from each other, away from the other students, away form anything in particular as far as I could tell. As I watched, the smallest girl rose with her tray- unopened soda, unbitten apple- and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway or something. I watched, amazed at her lithe dancer's step, till she dumped her tray and glided through the back door, faster than I would have thought possible. My eyes darted back to the others, who sat unchanging.

"Who are _they?_" I asked the boy from my Spanish class, whose name I'd forgotten.

As he looked up to see who I meant- though already knowing, probably, form my tone- suddenly she looked at him, the wavy orange-haired, little girly one, the youngest, perhaps. She looked at my neighbor for just a fraction of a second, and then her bright eyes flickered to mine.

She looked away quickly, more quickly than I could, though in a flush of embarrassment I dropped my eyes at once. In that brief flash of a glance, her face held nothing of interest- it was as if he had called her name, and she'd looked up in involuntary response, already having decided not to answer.

My neighbor laughed in embarrassment, looking at the table like I did.

"You spotted the Kelbys and the Hurleys. It's hard not to, everyone knows their history, what with those looks, the grades, and the rumors. That's Enton, Ethan, Layla and Addison Kelby. And that's Jackson, Raelle, and Erin Hurley. They all live together with Dr. Kelby and his wife." He said this under his breath.

I glanced sideways at the beautiful red-headed girl, who was looking at her tray now, picking a bagel to pieces with long, pale fingers. Her mouth was moving very quickly, her perfectly full lips barely opening. The other five still looked away, and yet I felt she was speaking quietly to them.

Strange, unpopular names, I thought. The kinds of names exotic book characters had. But maybe that was in vogue here- big city names? I finally remembered that my neighbor was called Jesse, a perfectly common name. There were two guys named Jesse in one of my morning classes.

"They are… very nice-looking." I struggled with the conspicuous understatement.

"Yeah!" Jesse agreed with another chuckle. "They're all _together_ though- Ethan and Raelle, Jackson and Addison, Enton and Erin, I mean. And they _live_ together." His voice held all the scandal and gossip of the big city, I thought critically. But, if I was being honest, I had to admit that even in Forks, it would cause talk.

"Which ones are the Kelbys?" I asked. "They don't look related…."

"Oh, they're not. Dr. Kelby is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. The Hurleys _are_ brother and sister- the blondes are twins- and they're foster children."

"They look a little old for foster children."

"They are now, Jackson and Raelle are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Kelby since they were eight. She's like their aunt or something like that."

"That's kinda nice- for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything."

"I guess so." Jesse admitted reluctantly, and I got the impression that he didn't like the doctor and his wife for some reason. With the glances he was throwing at their adopted children, I would presume the reason was jealousy. "I think that Mrs. Kelby can't have any kids, though," he added, as if that lessened their kindness.

Throughout this conversation, my eyes flickered again and again to the table where the strange family sat. They continued to look at the walls and not eat.

"Have they always lived in L.A.?" I asked. Surely my mother would have gossiped to me about them at some point.

"No," he said in a voice that implied it should be obvious, even to a new arrival like me. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."

I felt a surge of pity, and relief. Pity because, as beautiful as they were, they were outsiders, clearly not accepted even in this huge school. Relief that I wasn't the only newcomer here, and certainly not the most interesting by any standard.

As I examined them, the youngest, one of the Kelbys, looked up and met my gaze, this time with evident curiosity in her expression. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that her glance held some kind of unmet expectation.

"Which one is the girl with the reddish orange hair?" I asked. I peeked at her from the corner of my eye, and she was still staring at me, but not gawking like the other few students had today- she had a slightly frustrated expression. I looked down again.

"That's Layla. She's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. She doesn't date. Apparently none of the guys here are good-looking enough for her." He sniffed, a clear case of sour grapes. I wondered when she'd turned him down.

I bit my lip to hide my smile. Then I glanced at her again. Her face was turned away, but I thought her cheek appeared lifted, as if she were smiling, too.

After a few more minutes, the six of them left the table together. They were all noticeably graceful, even the big, brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. The one named Layla didn't look at me again.

I sat at the table with Jesse and his friends longer than I would have if I'd been sitting alone. I was anxious not to be late for class on my first day. One of my new acquaintances, who considerately reminded me that his name was Andrew, had Biology II with me next hour. We walked to class together in silence. He was shy, too.

When we entered the classroom, Andrew went to sit at the black-topped lab table exactly like the ones I was used to. He already had a neighbor. In fact, all the tables were filled but one. Next to the center aisle, I recognized Layla Kelby by her unusual hair, sitting next to that single open seat.

As I walked down the aisle to introduce myself to the teacher and get my catch-up work, I was watching her surreptitiously. Just as I passed, she suddenly went rigid in her seat. She stared at me again, meeting my eyes with the strangest expression on her face- it was hostile, furious. I looked away quickly, shocked, going red again. I stumbled over a book in the walkway and had to catch myself on the edge of a table. The closest boy sitting there giggled.

I'd noticed that her eyes were black- coal black.

Mr. Banner signed my slip and handed me a book with no nonsense about introductions. I could tell we were going to get along. Of course, he had no choice but to send me to the one open seat in the middle of the room. I kept my eyes down as I went to sit by _her_, bewildered by the antagonistic stare she'd given me.

I didn't look up as I set my book on the table and took my seat, but I saw her posture change from the corner of my eye. She was leaning away from me, sitting on the extreme edge of her chair and averting her face like she smelled something bad. Inconspicuously, I sniffed my armpits. They smelled like my deodorant and soap. It seemed an innocent enough odor. I let my curls fall over my face, making a thin screen between us, and tried to pay attention to the teacher.

Unfortunately the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something I'd already studied. I took notes carefully anyway, always looking down.

I couldn't stop myself from peeking occasionally through my hair at the strange girl next to me. During the whole class, she never relaxed her stiff position on the edge of her chair, sitting as far from me as possible. I could see her hand on her left leg was clenched into a fist, tendons standing out under her pain skin. This, too, she never relaxed. She had the long sleeves of her white shirt pushed up to her elbows, and her forearm was surprisingly sleek and muscular beneath her light skin. She wasn't nearly as slight as she'd looked next to her burly siblings.

The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. Was it because the day was finally coming to a close, or because I was waiting for her fist to loosen? It never did; she continued to sit so still it looked like she wasn't breathing. What was wrong with her? Was this her normal behavior?

It couldn't have anything to do with me. She didn't know me at all.

I peeked up at her one more time, and regretted it. She was glaring down at me again, her black eyes full of revulsion. As I flinched away from her, shrinking against my chair, the phrase _if looks could kill_ suddenly ran through my mind.

At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making me jump, and Layla Kelby was out of her seat. Fluidly she rose- she was much taller than I'd thought, her back to me, and she was out the door before anyone else was out of their seat.

I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly after her. She was so mean. It wasn't fair. I began gathering up my things slowly, trying to block the anger that filled me, for fear my eyes would tear up. For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. A wonderful quality in a teenage boy. I usually cried when I was angry, needless to say a humiliating tendency.

"Aren't you the new kid Daniel?" a female voice asked.

I looked up to see a cute, fresh-faced girl, her pale blonde hair carefully placed in orderly layers, smiling at me in a friendly way. She obviously didn't think I smelled bad.

"Dan," I corrected her, with a smile.

"I'm Michelle."

"Hi, Michelle."

"Do you need any help finding your next class?"

"I'm headed to gym, actually. I think I can find it."

"That's my next class, too." She seemed thrilled, though it wasn't that big of a coincidence; three classes had gym next.

We walked to class together; she was a chatterer- she supplied most of the conversation, which made it easy for me. She'd lived in a small rainy town till she was ten, so she knew about how I felt about nature. It turned out she was in my English class also. She was the nicest person I'd met today.

But as we were entering the gym, she asked, "So, did you stab Layla Kelby with a pencil or what? I've never seen her act like that."

I cringed. So I wasn't the only one who had noticed. And, apparently, that _wasn't_ Layla Kelby's usual behavior. I decided to play dumb.

"Was that the girl I sat next to in Biology?" I asked artlessly.

"Yes," she said. "She looked like she was in pain or something."

"I don't know," I responded. "I never spoke to her."

"She's a weird girl." Michelle lingered by me instead of heading to the locker room. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."

I blushed and smiled at her before walking through the boys' locker room door. She was friendly and clearly admiring. But it wasn't enough to ease my irritation.

The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found me a uniform but didn't make me dress down for today's class. At home, only two years of P.E. were required. Here, P.E. was mandatory all four years. L.A. was literally my personal hell on Earth.

I watched four volleyball games running simultaneously. Remembering how many injuries I had sustained- and inflicted- playing all sports, I felt faintly nauseated.

The final bell rang at last. I walked slowly to the office to return my paperwork. The sun pounded harder and hotter against my neck.

When I walked into the cool office, I almost turned around and walked back out.

Layla Kelby stood at the desk in front of me. I recognized again that impossibly long, wavy orange hair. She didn't appear to notice the sound of my entrance. I stood pressed against the back wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free. The bleached blonde woman was gone and there was now a middle-aged man sitting in her seat.

She was arguing in a low, attractive voice. I quickly picked up the gist of the argument. She was trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another time- any other time.

I just couldn't believe that this was about me. It had to be something else, something that happened before I entered the Biology room. The look on her face must have been about another aggravation entirely. It was impossible that this stranger could take such a sudden, intense dislike to me.

The door opened again, and the humid air whirled around me, picking up a few of my ringlets in the breeze. The boy who came in merely stepped to the desk, placed a note in a wire basket, and walked out again. But Layla Kelby's back stiffened, and she turned slowly to glare at me- her face was absurdly pretty- with piercing, hate-filled eyes. For an instant, I felt a thrill of genuine fear, raising the hair on my arms. The look only lasted a second, but it stuck to me more than the smog outside. She turned back to the man.

"Never mind, then," she said hastily in a voice like a purring cat. "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your help." And she turned on her heel without another look at me, and disappeared out the door.

I went meekly to the desk, my face white for once instead of red, and handed him the papers.

When I got to the car, it was almost the last car in the lot. It seemed like a haven, already the closest thing to home I had in this smelly yellow hole. I sat inside for a while, just staring out the windshield blankly. But soon I was hot enough to need the air conditioning, so I turned the key and the engine revved to life. I headed back to Betsy's house, fighting the urge to yell the whole way there.


	2. Chapter 2 Open Book

The next day was better… and worse.

It was better because the sky was surprisingly clear and it was a bit cooler. It was easier because I knew what to expect of my day. Michelle came to sit by me in English, and walked me to my next class, with overly-helpful Erica glaring at her all the while; that was flattering, if not completely humiliating. People didn't look at me quite as much as they had yesterday. I sat with a big group at lunch that included Michelle, Eric, Jesse, and several other people whose names and faces I now somewhat remembered. I began to feel like I was floating on water, instead of drowning in it.

It was worse because I was tired; I still couldn't sleep through the noise and lights echoing around the huge empty house. It was worse because Mr. Varner called on me in Trig when my hand wasn't raised and I fumbled over the answer, even though I had the right one. It was miserable because I had to play volleyball, and the one time I didn't cringe out of the way of the ball, I hit another guy in the head with it. And it was worse because Layla Kelby wasn't in school at all.

All morning I was dreading lunch, fearing her bizarre glares. Part of me wanted to talk to her and ask her what her problem was, but I knew myself too well to think I would really have the guts to do it. I made the Cowardly Lion look like the Terminator.

But when I walked into the cafeteria with Jesse- trying to keep my eyes from sweeping the place for her, and failing entirely- I saw that her six siblings of sorts were sitting together at the same table, and she was not with them.

Michelle intercepted us and steered us to her table. Jesse seemed pleased by the attention, and her friends quickly joined us. But as I tried to listen to their easy chatter, I was terribly uncomfortable, waiting nervously for the moment she would arrive. I hoped that she would simply ignore me when she came, and prove my suspicions false.

She didn't come, and as time passed I grew more and more tense.

I walked to Biology with more confidence when, by the end of lunch, she still hadn't showed. Taking on the qualities of a golden retriever, Michelle walked faithfully by my side to class. I held my breath at the door, but Layla Kelby wasn't there, either. I exhaled and went to my seat. Michelle followed, talking about an upcoming trip to the beach. She lingered by my desk till the bell rang. Then she smiled at me wistfully and went to sit by a boy with braces and a bad haircut. It looked like I was going to have to do something about Michelle, and it wouldn't be easy. In this school rumors and attention came too quick too control and averting attention was still my main priority. I had never been enormously tactful; I had no practice dealing with overly friendly girls.

I was relieved that I had the desk to myself, that Layla was absent. I told myself that repeatedly. But I couldn't get rid of the nagging suspicion that I was the reason she wasn't there. It was ridiculous, and egotistical, to think that I could affect anyone that strongly. It was impossible. And yet I couldn't stop worrying that it was true.

When the school day was finally done, and my shin and elbow had stopped bleeding from the volleyball incident, I changed quickly back into my worn out jeans and math camp t-shirt. I hurried from the locker room, pleased that I had evaded my retriever friend for the moment. I walked swiftly out to the parking lot. It was crowded now with fleeing students. I got in my car and checked the dashboard compartment for my money. My weekly allowance, according to Betsy.

Last night I'd discovered that Betsy was never home long enough to prepare more than a bowl of cereal or grab a power bar. So I decided that, rather than letting Nadia the housekeeper cook my meals, I'd buy my own groceries and make my own food. No one was around to protest and I was already basically living on my own.

I gunned my powerful engine to life, smiling at the purr of the machine, and backed quickly into the line of cars that were waiting to exit the parking lot. As I waited, trying to blend into my seat's upholstery, I saw the three Kelbys and the three Hurleys getting into their cars. One was a vintage Thunderbird, the other a sleek Corvette. Of course. I hadn't noticed their clothes before-I'd been too mesmerized by their faces. Now that I looked, it was obvious that they were all dressed exceptionally well; simply, but in clothes that subtly hinted at designer origins. With their remarkable good looks, the style with which they carried themselves, they could have worn dishrags and pulled it off. It seemed excessive for them to have both looks and money. But as far as I could tell, life worked that way most of the time. It didn't look as if it bought them much acceptance here.

No, I didn't fully believe that. The isolation must be their desire; I couldn't imagine any door that wouldn't be opened by that degree of beauty.

They looked at my purring sports car as I passed them, just like everyone else. I kept my eyes straight forward and was relieved when I finally was free of the school grounds.

The Thriftway was not far from the school, just a few streets south into the poorer side of the city. It was nice to be inside the supermarket; it felt normal. I did the shopping back at home, and I fell into the pattern of the familiar task gladly. The store was big enough inside that it was perfectly cool, no scorching heat to remind me where I was.

When I got to Betsy's house, home now I guessed, I unloaded all the groceries, stuffing them in wherever I could find an open space. I knew Betsy wouldn't mind. I wrapped potatoes in foil and stuck them in the oven to bake, covered a steak in marinade and balanced it on top of a carton of eggs in the fridge that had probably never been full.

When I was finished with that, I took my book bag upstairs. Before starting my homework, I changed into a pair of clean sweats, popped my retainer in, and checked my e-mail for the first time. I had a shocking three messages.

"Dan," my dad wrote…

**Write me as soon as you get in, son. Tell me how your flight was. Is it burning up out there? The house is pretty empty without you. Me and Susan are almost finished packing for Virginia, but I can't find my fishing boots. You know where I left them? Susan says hi. Dad.**

I let out a big breath and went to the next. It was sent eight hours after the first.

"Dan," he wrote…

**Why haven't you e-mailed me yet? Whacha waiting for? Dad.**

The last was from this morning.

**Daniel,**

**If I don't hear anything soon, tonight, I'm calling Betsy.**

I checked the clock. I still had some time but what else did I have to do?

**Dad,**

**Chill out. I'm fine. Of course it's burning up. I was waiting for something legitimate to write about. School isn't so bad, just a little repetitive. I met some alright kids who sit with me at lunch. Your boots are in the garage under the shelf. Betsy bought me an amazing sports car, can you believe it? I love it. It's gorgeous, really quiet and really nice handling. This house is pretty empty too. Nadia, the housekeeper, is only here part of the time and you know how often Betsy's here. I'll try to write again soon but I have my own things to do. Again, chill out. I miss you, Dad. Dan.**

I had decided to read _Wuthering Heights-_ the novel we were currently studying in English-yet again for the fun of it, and that's what I was doing when Betsy came home. I'd lost track of the time, and I hurried downstairs to take the potatoes out and put the steak in to broil.

"Danny?" my mother called out when she heard opened the fridge.

That was definitely annoying.

"Hey, Mom, you're home." I tried to feign happiness.

"Yep. But I only have time for a power dinner then I have to go back to the office to finish up some paperwork. Then I have a cocktail slash dinner arrangement with a client later." She kicked off her dangerously high heels and on her way to the pantry, for one of her power bars most likely, she halted suddenly. She sniffed cautiously then gave me a puzzled look.

"I'm making steak and potatoes for dinner." I said simply. She looked completely flabbergasted; I doubted the oven had ever been used. I smiled as best I could at her.

"Huh. So your dad taught you to cook. Well, in any case, that dinner is obscenely fattening and I couldn't justify eating in while on my diet. Sorry, kiddo. Maybe Nadia will want some!" she bustled out of the kitchen then, leaving me to my dinner with Nadia. I tried to convince myself I wasn't upset but I'm awful at lying.

I finished cooking my obscenely fattening dinner just as Nadia strolled in carrying a huge laundry basket. After telling her I didn't have any dirty clothes I invited her to eat with me. She gave me a pondering look, trying to see if I was joking. Finally she accepted and we ate at the huge table made for at least ten people. I decided Nadia and I should find a smaller table to eat at from now on.

Nadia seemed to think conversation was necessary.

"So how did you like your new school? Have you made any nice new friends?" she asked as she forked another potato onto her plate.

"Well, kinda. I have a few classes with a guy named Jesse. He's cool. And there's this girl, Michelle, who's really nice. Everyone seems okay." With one outstanding exception.

"Oh yes, Michelle Norberry. I have connections all over L.A. I know a lot of the families at your school, believe it or not. She's a nice girl, nice family."

"Have you heard of the Kelby family?" I asked hesitantly.

"The plastic surgeon? Sure. Dr. Kelby's a great man."

"They… the kids…are all a little different. They don't seem to fit with everyone else in school."

"Oooh yes. Those kids are gorgeous. Could be models, all of them, live anywhere or do anything. But they stayed here. They are quite the family, wonderful people though. Never any trouble with any of them. Which is pretty rare here. They even go out on little cruises every few weekends, they're so rich. People talk 'cause they're so young and pretty and rich, but, hey, it's L.A."

I was surprised when Nadia agreed to eat with me, let alone her talking now. I was pretty sure what she had said so far was more than Betsy had said to me in years.

I backpedaled. "Yeah, they seemed nice enough to me. I just noticed they kept to themselves a lot. They really are all very attractive," I added, hinting on the obvious.

"Oh goodness! Wait till you see the parents!" she chuckled and we went back to finishing dinner. She cleared the table while I loaded rinsed the dishes and loaded them in the washer. Then I went upstairs to finish my math homework. I could feel a tradition in the making.

That night it was finally quieter. I fell asleep quickly, exhausted.

The rest of the week was uneventful. I got used to the routine of my classes. By Friday I was able to recognize, if not name, almost all the students in all of my classes. In Gym, the kids on my team learned not to pass me the ball and to step quickly in front of me if the other team tried to take advantage of my weakness. I happily stayed out of their way.

Layla Kelby didn't come back to school.

Every day, I watched anxiously until the rest of the Kelbys entered the cafeteria without her. Then I could relax and join in the lunchtime conversation. Mostly it centered around a trip to Santa Barbara in two weeks that Michelle was putting together. I was invited, and I had agreed to go, more out of politeness than desire. Beaches should be cooler and breezier.

By Friday I was perfectly comfortable entering my Biology class, no longer worried that Layla would be there. For all I knew, she had dropped out of school. I tried not to think about her, but I couldn't totally suppress the worry that I was responsible for her continued absence, ridiculous as it seemed.

My first weekend in Los Angeles passed without incident. Betsy, unused to spending time in the almost constantly empty mansion, worked the entire weekend. I slept, got ahead on my homework, and wrote my dad more bogusly cheerful e-mail. I did drive to the library Saturday, but it was too big to really know what to look for; I would have to visit a smaller shop around town some time. I wondered idly what kind of gas mileage the car got… and shuddered at the thought.

The smog cleared a bit over the weekend so I could crack my window at night.

People greeted me in the parking lot Monday morning. I didn't know their names, but I tried to smile back and simultaneously blend back into the crowd. It was hotter today, but happily less smoggy. In English, Michelle took her accustomed seat by my side. We had a pop quiz on _Wuthering Heights_. It was straightforward, very easy.

All in all, I was feeling a lot more comfortable than I had thought I would feel by this point. More comfortable than I had ever expected to feel here.

When we walked out of class I couldn't see a foot in front of me for the pouring rain.

"Whoah," Michelle said. "It's raining."

I looked at the violent pelts battering the sidewalk and noticed that this was not the rain I was used to.

"Egh." This was hardly rain. There went my good day.

She looked surprised. "Don't you like the rain?"

"Not like this."

Michelle laughed. Then someone running past leapt in the huge puddle in front of us, soaking us both. We both turned to see who it was. I had my suspicions about Erica, who was walking away, her back toward us, in the wrong direction for her next class I thought. Michelle giggled and looked at me expectantly, as if asking permission.

"Uh, I'll see you at lunch, okay?" I kept walking as I spoke. "Puddle splashing is my cue to leave."

She just nodded, her eyes on Erica's retreating figure.

Throughout the morning, everyone talked excitedly about the rain; apparently it was the first rain of the new year. I kept my mouth shut. If only they could experience Forks rain.

I walked alertly into the cafeteria with Jesse after Spanish. Squeaking sneaker sounds echoed through the room. Michelle caught up with us as we walked in the doors, laughing, with her long hair dripping water. She and Jesse were talking animatedly about the puddle fight as we got in line to buy food. I glanced toward that table in the corner out of habit. And then I froze where I stood. There were seven people at the table. Jesse pulled on my arm.

"Hello? Dude? What do you want?"

I looked down; my ears were hot. I had no reason to feel self-conscious, I reminded myself. I hadn't done anything wrong.

"What's with Dan?" Michelle asked Jesse.

"Nothing," I answered. "I'll just get a soda today." I caught up with the end of the line.

"Aren't you hungry?" Jesse asked.

"Actually, I feel a kinda sick," I said, my eyes still on the floor.

I waited for them to get their food, and then followed them to a table, my eyes on my feet.

I sipped my soda slowly, my stomach churning. Twice Michelle asked, with unnecessary concern, how I was feeling. I told her it was nothing, but I was wondering if I _should_ play it up and escape to the nurse's office for the next hour.

Ridiculous. I shouldn't have to run away.

I decided to permit myself one glance at the Kelby family's table. If she was glaring at me, I would skip

Biology, like the coward I was.

They were laughing. Enton, Jackson, and Ethan all had their hair entirely drenched with the rain. Erin, Addison Raelle, and Layla were leaning away as Ethan shook his dripping hair toward them. They were enjoying the rainy day, just like everyone else- only they looked more like a scene from a movie than the rest of us.

But, aside form the laughter and playfulness, there was something different, and I couldn't quite pinpoint what that difference was. I examined Layla the most carefully. Her skin was less pale, I decided-flushed from the puddle splashing maybe- the circles under her eyes much less noticeable. But there was something more. I pondered, staring, trying to isolate the change.

"Dan, what are you staring at?" Jesse intruded, his eyes following my stare.

At that precise moment, her eyes flashed over to meet mine.

I dropped my head, letting my curls fall to conceal my face. I was sure, though, in the instant our eyes met, that she didn't look harsh or unfriendly as she had the last time I'd seen her. She looked merely curious again, unsatisfied in some way.

"Layla Kelby is staring at you," Jesse laughed in my ear.

"She doesn't look angry, does she?" I couldn't help asking.

"No," he said, sounding confused by my question. "Should she be?"

"I don't think she likes me," I confessed. I still felt queasy. I put my head down on my arm.

"The Kelbys don't like anybody… well they don't notice anybody enough to like them. But she's still staring at you."

"Stop looking at her," I hissed

He snickered, but he looked away. I raised my head enough to make sure that he did, contemplating violence if he resisted.

Michelle interrupted us then- she was planning an epic puddle battle in the parking lot after school and wanted us to join. Jesse agreed enthusiastically. The way he looked at Michelle left little doubt that he would be up for anything she suggested. I kept silent. I would have to hide in the gym until the parking lot cleared.

For the rest of the lunch hour I very carefully kept my eyes at my own table. I decided to honor the bargain I'd make with myself. Since she didn't look angry, I would go to Biology. My stomach did frightened little flips at the thought of sitting next to her again.

I didn't really want to walk to class with Michelle as usual but when we went to the door, everyone besides me groaned in unison, the rain had stopped and the heat was back. I pushed my sleeves up, secretly pleased. I would be free to go straight home after Gym.

Michelle kept up a string of complaints on the way to our building.

Once inside the classroom, I saw with relief that may table was still empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and box of slides to each table. Class didn't start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away form the door, doodling idly on the cover of my notebook.

I heard very clearly when the chair next to me moved, but my eyes stayed carefully focused on the pattern I was drawing.

"Hello," said a quiet, musical voice.

I looked up, stunned that she was speaking to me. She was sitting as far away from me as the desk allowed, but her chair was angled toward me. Her hair was dripping wet, disheveled- even so, she looked like she's just finished shooting a commercial for shampoo. Her dazzling face was friendly, open, a slight smile on her flawless lips. But her eyes were careful.

"My name is Layla Kelby," she continued. "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Dan Strada."

My mind was spinning with confusion. Had I made up the whole thing? She was perfectly polite now. I had to speak; she was waiting. But I couldn't think of anything conventional to say.

"H-how do you know my name?" I stammered.

She laughed a soft, enchanting laugh.

"Word gets around."

I grimaced. "No," I persisted stupidly. "I meant, why did you call me Dan?"

She seemed confused. "Do you prefer Daniel?"

"No, I like Dan," I said. "But everyone assumes it's Daniel that meets me…" I tried to explain, feeling like an utter moron.

"Oh." She let it drop. I looked away awkwardly.

Thankfully, Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't supposed to use our books. In twenty minutes he would be coming around to see who had it right.

"Get started," he commanded.

"You first?" Layla asked. I looked up to see her smiling a playful smile so beautiful that I could only stare at her like an idiot.

"Or I could start, if you wish." The smile faded; she was obviously wondering if I was mentally competent.

"No," I said, flushing. "I'll go ahead."

I was showing off, just a little. I'd already done this lab, and I know what I was looking for. It should be easy, I snapped the first slide into place under the microscope and adjusted it quickly to the 40X objective. I studied the slide briefly. My assessment was confident. "Prophase."

"Do you mind if I look?" she asked me as I began to remove the slide. Her hand caught mine, to stop me, as she asked. Her fingers were ice-cold, like she'd been holding them in a cooler before class. But that wasn't why I jerked my hand away so quickly. When she touched me, it stung my hand as if an electric current had passed through us.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, pulling her hand back immediately. However, she continued to reach for the microscope. I watched her, still staggered, as she examined the slide for an even short time than I had.

"Prophase," she agreed, writing it neatly in the first space on our worksheet. She swiftly switched out the first slide for the second, and then glanced at it cursorily.

"Anaphase," she murmured, writing it down as she spoke.

I kept my voice indifferent. "May I?"

She smirked and pushed the microscope to me.

I looked through the eyepiece eagerly, only to be disappointed, Dang it, she was right.

"Slide three?" I held out my hand without looking at her.

She handed it to me; it seemed like she was being careful not to touch my skin again.

I took the most fleeting look I could manage.

"Interphase." I passed her the microscope before she could ask for it. She took a swift peek, and then wrote it down. I would have written it while she looked, but her clear, elegant script intimidated me. I didn't want to spoil the page with my clumsy scrawl.

We were finished before anyone else was close. I could see Michelle and her partner comparing two slides again and again, and another group had their book open under the table. Which left me nothing to do but try not to look at her… unsuccessfully. I glanced up, and she was staring at me, that same inexplicable look of frustration in her eyes. Suddenly I identified that subtle difference in her face.

"Did you get contacts?" I blurted out unthinkingly.

She seemed puzzled by my unexpected question. "No."

"Oh," I mumbled. "I thought there was something different about your eyes."

She shrugged, and looked away.

In fact, I was sure there was something different. I vividly remembered the flat black color of her eyes the last time she had glared at me- the color was striking against the background of her pale skin and her fiery hair. Today her eyes were a completely different color: a strange cobalt, not quite a dark blue but much brighter. I didn't understand how that could be, unless she was lying for some reason about the contacts. Or maybe L.A. was making me crazy in the literal sense of the word.

I looked down. Her hands were clenched into hard fists again.

Mr. Banner came to our table then, to see why we weren't working. He looked over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab, and then stared more intently to check the answers.

"So, Layla, didn't you think Daniel should get a chance with the microscope?" Mr. Banner asked.

"Dan," Layla corrected automatically. "Actually, she identified three of the five."

Mr. Banner looked at me now; his expression was skeptical.

"Have you done this lab before?" he asked.

I smiled sheepishly. "Not with onion root."

"Well," he said after a moment, "I guess it's good you two are lab partners." He mumbled something else as he walked away. After he left, I began doodling on my notebook again.

"It's too bad about the rain, isn't it?" Layla asked. I had the feeling that she was forcing herself to make small talk with me. Paranoia swept over me again. It was like she had heard my conversation with Jesse at lunch and was trying to prove me wrong.

"Not really," I answered honestly, instead of pretending to be normal like everyone else. I was still trying to dislodge the stupid feeling of suspicion, and I couldn't concentrate.

"You don't like the weather here." It wasn't a question. I didn't respond.

"L.A. must be a difficult place for you to live," she mused.

"You have no idea," I muttered darkly.

She looked fascinated by what I said, for some reason I couldn't imagine. Her face was such a distracting that I tried not to look at it any more than courtesy absolutely demanded.

"Why did you come here then?"

No one had asked me that- not straight out like she did, demanding.

"It's… complicated."

"I think I can keep up," she pressed

I paused for a long moment, and then make the mistake of meeting her gaze. Her deep blue eyes confused me, and I answered without thinking.

"My father is getting remarried," I said.

"That doesn't sound so complex," she disagreed, but was suddenly sympathetic. "When did that happen?"

"Last September." My voice sounded sad, even to me.

"And you don't like her," Layla surmised, her tone still kind.

"No, Susan is fine. A bit young, maybe, but nice."

"Why didn't you stay with them?"

I couldn't fathom her interest, but she continued to stare at me with penetrating eyes, as if my dull life's story was somehow vitally important.

"Susan's family lives in Virginia. They're moving there." I half-smiled.

"And your father sent you here so that you wouldn't get dragged across the country." She said it as an assumption again, not a question.

My chin raised a fraction. "No, I sent myself here."

Her delicate eyebrows knit together. "I don't understand," she admitted, and she seemed unnecessarily frustrated by that fact. I signed. Why was I explaining this to her? She continued to stare at me with obvious curiosity.

"Believe me, things are just better this way. So now I can spend some quality time with Betsy." My voice was very obviously glum.

"But now you're unhappy," she pointed out.

"And?" I challenged.

"That doesn't seem fair." She shrugged, but her eyes were still intense.

I laughed without humor. "Hasn't anyone ever told you? Life isn't fair."

"I believe I _have_ heard that somewhere before," she agreed dryly.

"So that's all," I insisted, wondering why she was still staring at me that way.

Her gaze became appraising. "You put on a good show," she said slowly. "But I'd be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."

I grimaced at her, resisting the impulse to stick out my tongue like a five-year-old, and looked away.

"Am I wrong?"

I tried to ignore her.

"I didn't think so," she murmured smugly.

"Why does it matter to _you_?" I asked, irritated. I kept my eyes away, watching the teacher make his rounds.

"That's a very good question," she muttered, so quietly that I wondered if she was talking to herself. However, after a few seconds of silence, I decided that was the only answer I was going to get.

I signed, scowling at the blackboard.

"Am I annoying you?" she asked. She sounded amused.

I glanced at her without thinking… and told the truth again. "Not exactly. I'm more annoyed at myself. My face is so easy to read-my dad always calls me an open book." I frowned

"On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read." Despite everything that I'd said and she's guessed, she sounded like she meant it.

"You must be a good reader then," I replied.

"Usually." She smiled widely, flashing a set of perfect, ultrawhite teeth.

Mr. Banner called the class to order then, and I turned with relieve to listen. I was in disbelief that I'd just explained my dreary life to this bizarre, beautiful girl who may or may not despise me. She'd seemed engrossed in our conversation, but now I could see, from the corner of my eye, that she was leaning away from me again, her hands gripping the edge of the table with unmistakable tension.

I tried to appear attentive as MR. Banner illustrated, with transparencies on the overhead projector, what I had seen without difficulty through the microscope. But my thoughts were unmanageable.

When the bell finally rand, Layla rushed as swiftly and as gracefully from the room as she had last Monday. And, like last Monday, I stared after her in amazement.

Michelle skipped quickly to my side and picked up my books for me. I imagined her with a wagging tail.

"That was awful," she groaned. "They all looked exactly the same. You're lucky you had Kelby for a partner."

"I didn't have any trouble with it," I said, stung by her assumption. I regretted the snub instantly. "I've done the lab before, though," I added before she could her feelings hurt.

"Layla seemed friendly enough today," she commented as we packed our bags. She didn't seem pleased about it.

I tried to sound indifferent. "I wonder what was with her last Monday."

I couldn't concentrate on Michelle's chatter as we walked to Gym, and P.E. didn't do much to hold my attention either. Michelle was on my team today. She proudly covered my position as well as her own, so my woolgathering was only interrupted when it was my turn to serve; my team ducked warily out of the way every time I was up.

It was sultry outside as I walked to the parking lot, but I was happier when I was in the cool cab. I got the air conditioning running, for once not caring about the purr of the engine or looks. I pulled my overshirt off and tried to flatten my thick curls a little.

I looked around to make sure it was clear. That's when I noticed the still, white figure. Layla Kelby was leaning against the front door of the Corvette, three cars down from me, staring intently in my direction. I swiftly looked away and threw the car into reverse, almost hitting a rusty Toyota Corolla in my haste. Lucky for the Toyota, I stomped on the sensitive brake in time. It was just the sort of car that would crumple my beautiful car. I took a deep breath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again, with greater success. I stared straight ahead as I passed the Corvette, but from a peripheral peek, I would swear I saw her laughing.


	3. Chapter 3 Phenomenon

When I opened my eyes in the morning, something was different.

It was the light. It was still the blinding yellow of a scorching day in the city, but it was clearer somehow. I realized there was no smog veiling my window.

I climbed out of bed and looked outside to find the ground again soaking. It looked like more puddle fights today. Maybe I should just go back to bed now.

Betsy had left for work before I got downstairs. Living with Betsy was practically having my own place, and I found myself reveling in the aloneness instead of being lonely.

I threw together my backpack and rushed out the door, excited to go to school. And that scared me. I knew it wasn't the stimulating learning environment I was anticipating, or seeing my new set of friends. If I was being honest with myself, I knew I was eager to get to school because I would see Layla Kelby. And that was very, very stupid.

I should be avoiding her entirely after my thoughtless and embarrassing babbling yesterday. And I was suspicious of her; why should she lie about her eyes? I was still frightened of the hostility I sometimes felt emanating from her, and I was still tongue-tied whenever I pictured her flawless face. I was well aware that my puny league and her league were in spheres that did not touch. So I shouldn't be at all anxious to see her today.

When I climbed into my car a delicious scent hit my nose. I looked over at the passenger side. Sitting on the dashboard was a plate with a breakfast burrito. Betsy certainly had nothing to do with this. Nadia. I felt myself smile widely. It turned out I did have a mother of sorts here, after all.

Driving to school, eating my breakfast, I distracted myself from unwanted speculations about Layla Kelby by thinking about Michelle and Erica, and the obvious difference in how teenage girls responded to me here. I was sure I looked exactly the same as I had in Forks. Maybe it was just that the girls back home had watched me pass slowly through all the awkward phases of adolescence and still thought of me that way. Or maybe the girls here were just bored of cocky, brainless guys. But insecure nerds like me didn't seem to be the answer. Possibly my crippling clumsiness and social disorder were seen as endearing rather than pathetic. I found that doubtful. Whatever the reason, Michelle's puppy dog behavior and Erica's apparent rivalry with her were disconcerting. I wasn't sure if I didn't prefer being ignored.

I pulled into a parking space, collected my bag and climbed out of the car. It didn't' take long for Erica and Michelle to prance up to me with excited grins on their faces.

"What's going on?" They seemed even more giddy than usual.

Michelle cheerfully trilled, "Swimming starts in gym today! I hope you brought your suit!" I internally groaned. Of course I hadn't brought my bathing suit. And now everyone would have to be exposed to my frail, puny, blindingly pale body. Wonderful. I feigned enthusiasm.

The classes that usually went on forever sped past and before I knew it it was time to make my way to the pool. Michelle and Erica practically dragged me to the coach to ask for a backup swim suit. Naturally the only extra he had was a medium which was gigantic on me. I yanked the string around the waist and pulled as tight as I could, but I'm sure I just ended up looking like a startled chicken in swim trunks.

With my arms crossed over my chest in a futile attempt to cover myself, I made my way to the edge of the pool where the other guys had gathered. The boys and girls were supposed to separate on either side of the pool and once everyone was ready we would be timed on one lap. All the jocks, only concerned with showing off, waited on the very edge of the pool to jump at the coach's whistle. I stood at the very deep end, alone, trying to avoid the crowd and wait to be the last to swim. I was a good swimmer but probably nothing compared to these beach and pool natives. And my hair tended to expand a great deal when I went in pools.

Suddenly, with a hideous screech, one of the biggest jocks of them all barreled past me from the locker rooms to join his stupid friends before the coach blew his whistle. He obviously didn't see me, which really wasn't anything new or alarming, except that his massive muscled forearm flew into my stomach as he continued dashing, he didn't even feel that he had hit me. I never stood a chance. With the wind knocked out of me I fell backwards, hitting my head on the concrete ledge of the pool with a jolt and toppling into the water shortly after.

All I could see for a very long time was a bright blue fog. Foggy because I was confused or because my eyes were burning with chlorine, I didn't know. It seemed the blow to the head had stolen my motor skills and my efforts to save myself were pointless. But just as I was drifting further and further from the surface, my lungs searching for air but only gulping water, a white and orange streak flew through the water in my direction. I didn't know if it was my imagination but it wrapped around me extremely fast and dragged me up, cutting through the water as if it were nothing. But my poor fragile body was bound to give in at some point. Just before the thing and I reached the surface, total overwhelming blackness.

I woke up to dozens of dumbfounded faces staring at me expectantly. My worst nightmare. I coughed hoarsely and sucked in a huge gasp of air. I realized I was lying on the ground, I was freezing, my head hurt worse than it ever had in my life, and Layla Kelby was remarkable close to my face, staring at me intently. When I started stirring everyone backed away a bit. As I tried to remember exactly what had happened, she spoke in a low, frantic voice.

"Dan? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." My voice sounded strange. I tried to sit up and painfully sputtered out a great deal of pool water. I noticed she had her hand wrapped around my upper arm with an iron grasp.

"Be careful," she warned as I struggled with a deep cough. "I think you hit your head pretty hard." I had already come to that conclusion. I made an ugly pained expression.

"That's what I thought." Her voice, amazingly, sounded like she was suppressing laughter.

"How in the…" I trailed off, trying to clear my throbbing head. "How did you get over here so fast?"

"I was standing right next to you, Dan," she said, her tone serious again.

I turned to sit up and she had no warning this time, releasing my arm and scooting many feet away from me. I looked at her concerned, innocent expression and again was disoriented by the force of her electric blue eyes. What was I asking her?

Then a flurry of excitement and rushing bodies erupted, throwing my train of thought off even further. I gave up and tried to stand, but Layla's strong yet delicate hand pushed against my wet bare chest, sending shocks across my skin.

"Just stay down for now."

"But I'm freezing," I complained. It surprised me when she giggled under her breath.

"You were over there," I suddenly remembered, and her giggle stopped short. "You were with the rest of the girls."

Her expression turned to stone. "No, I wasn't."

"I saw you." All around us students had started talking loudly and more teachers had arrived. But I held onto our argument; she knew I was right.

"Dan, I was standing a couple feet from you and I dove in right after you fell." She unleashed the full, brilliant power of her eyes on me, as if trying to communicate something crucial. She really only made me want to kiss her very, very badly.

"No," I grinded my teeth.

The blue in her eyes sparkled. "Please, Dan."

"Why?" I asked curiously, softly.

"Trust me," she pleaded, her soft, musical voice overwhelming.

I heard the coach approaching with a stretcher now. "Will you promise to explain everything to me later?"

"Fine," she snapped, quickly exasperated. I nodded.

I climbed onto the stretcher and was told I needed to be taken to the hospital to see if I had a concussion. I sat in my stretcher for a long time thinking. She had been completely across the massive pool and had seen me fall, diving in and pulling my wait and hers from the deepest part of the pool in seconds.

I looked over from my recline to see Layla's family, looking on at the teachers and students and nurse and parents from a distance, with expressions that ranged from disapproval to fury but held no hint of concern for their sister's safety.

I refused to be taken to the hospital by ambulance but Layla insisted I couldn't drive. I was wrapped in a towel, put in a neck brace, and pushed into the passenger seat of my precious sports car. Layla slid smoothly into the driver's seat in a way I knew was much different from the way I entered. The entire ride was silent.

Betsy was waiting in the lobby, cell phone glued to her ear and impatient expression plastered to her face. She walked with me to an emergency room where I was put through all the normal tests, pokes, and prods. Betsy didn't hang up her phone the entire time we were there so I might as well have been on my own.

After a few minutes they wheeled me away to X-ray my head. I told them there was nothing wrong, and I was right. Not even a concussion. I begged the nurse to let me leave but she said I had to talk to the doctor first. So I was trapped in the ER with my careless mother chattering to some client in my ear. I closed my eyes and dropped my head back onto the bed. Might as well get comfortable.

"Is he asleep?" a musical voice asked. My eyes flew open and I jerked upright. Way to be obvious, Dan.

Layla was standing at the foot of my bed, smirking. I tried to glare at her but I'm sure my face was nothing near angry. It would have been more natural to ogle or drool.

My mother paused her conversation for about five seconds, staring at Layla with what I'm sure was jealousy, before picking up right where she left off.

"So what's the verdict?" Layla asked me.

"There's nothing wrong with me at all, but they won't let me go," I complained. "Why are you here?"

"I came to spring you."

Then a doctor walked around the corner, and my mouth fell open. He was very young with long shiny brown hair, and I am completely heterosexual but he was the most handsome man I had ever seen. He was pale, and tired-looking, with circles under his eyes. And from the bright blue eyes and pink lips, he had to be Layla's father.

"So, Mr. Strada," Dr. Kelby said in a hypnotic voice, "how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," I said for the twentieth time, at least.

He walked to the X-ray hanging next to my bed. "Your X-rays look good. Does your head hurt? Layla said you hit it pretty hard."

"It's fine." I repeated with a sigh, trying to convey my annoyance to Layla.

The doctor's cool fingers probed lightly along the back of my head, hitting the exact spot I thumped on the ledge of the pool. I tried to hide my cringe but he saw.

"Tender?" he asked.

"Not really." I could deal with it.

I heard a giggle and glanced over to catch Layla's eye roll. I sighed again.

"Well your mother is in the waiting room, and very impatient to leave from what I hear she's telling the nurses. But if you feel dizzy, lightheaded, or have vision trouble come back."

I thought about that for a minute. Either I could go back to school and be gawked at or go home and be absolutely alone until Nadia arrived in a few hours. The latter choice seemed more appealing.

Out of curiosity, and the need to talk to her about what exactly happened, I asked "Is she going back?"

"Someone has to spread the good news that you survived," she said smugly.

"In any case, you were very lucky." Said the doctor.

"Oh well I was just lucky Layla happened to be standing right next to me." She had to catch the sarcasm.

"Eh, well, yes," Dr. Kelby agreed absentmindedly and looked down at his papers, gathering them to leave. As soon as he was out of the room, I got out of the bed and moved to Layla's side.

"We need to talk." I stated the obvious, frustrated.

She shot me a nasty look then quickly stepped out of the room, into the long hallway. For a girl, and close to my height, her strides were very hard to keep up with. She couldn't just ignore me. Finally we turned a corner and she spun around to face me, her long hair whipping around and hitting my face. The smell was incredible and almost fazed me.

"What do you want?" she snapped, obviously annoyed. Her eyes were cold and hard. Her attitude intimidated me. What was I doing questioning this girl? Still, I had to get some answers.

"You owe me an explanation," I reminded her, wishing I could match her angry tone.

"I saved your life- I don't owe you anything."

I could hardly talk to normal girls, let alone girls like _her_. "But you promised." I tried to maintain the idea that I was the male in this situation. I straightened my back a bit.

"Dan, you hit your head and almost suffocated, you have no idea what you're talking about."

My temper gave me back some confidence. "There is nothing wrong with my head."

She wasn't backing down either. "What do you want from me, Dan?"

"I want to know why I'm lying for you and why you won't tell me the truth."

"What do you _think_ happened?" she said as if I were a three-year-old describing a scratch.

The words rushed out of my mouth.

"You were no where near me, or any of the guys for that matter. What's-his-face with the biceps hit me and knocked me over and I hit my head hard. In the one minute that it took for me to fall, hit my head, hit the water, and sink to the bottom, you had made your way across the Olympic-sized pool, through our entire class, and into the deepest water." I could hear how crazy I sounded so I stopped. I had worked myself up into full temper by now and I had to grind my teeth to stay quiet.

She was staring at me in disbelief. Aside from that her face was like stone, as usual.

"You honestly think I did all of that? For _you_?" her tone questioned my sanity but I didn't entirely believe it. Besides the fact that I was hurt by her insinuation that I wasn't worth her rescue.

"Yes. I do." I didn't back down.

"Nobody will believe that ridiculous story, especially coming from you and involving me." She made me sound like less than a person.

"Well don't worry, I'm not planning on telling anyone," I tried to maintain my strength but she was slowly crushing me.

She looked shocked. "Then why does it matter?"

"It matters to me," I retorted. "I don't lie, so there had better be a good reason why I'm doing it."

"Can't you just thank me and get over it?"

I stayed quiet in silent refusal. I was too stubborn for that.

"You're not going to let it go, are you?"

I shook my head.

"Well that's unfortunate for you. I hope you're good at dealing with disappointment."

We scowled at each other in silence. I thought of something to say to break the silence but as soon as I formed a coherent sentence her face distracted me. Her eyes were a little darker but every bit as vivid blue. Her perfectly shaped pink lips begged to be kissed and yet again I had to fight to restrain myself. I collected my thoughts.

"Why did you even bother saving me?"

She paused, and for the first time I saw a sliver of vulnerability on her face.

"I don't know," she whispered. After another pause she turned her back, flipped her long fiery hair over her shoulder, and walked away from me.

I stood there for a moment. Alone. Just thinking about her and her words.

As I often did after encountering Layla, I snapped back into my right mind and strode out into the waiting room where my mom still chattered loudly into her phone. She didn't even ask, but I said, in a kind of hostile voice, "There's nothing wrong with me. Let's go."

We climbed into her car, prettier and even more expensive than mine, and drove the entire way with silence on my part and nonstop noise on her part. Betsy didn't matter though; I was too wrapped up in my thoughts to care about her. Layla's defensive behavior in the hall was definitely a confirmation of the bizarre things that I knew I saw.

When we got to the house I escaped to my room to tell my dad about what had happened. Maybe he'd help me make sense of the situation. I was completely consumed by the mystery that the beautiful Layla presented. And more than a little obsessed by Layla herself. How stupid of me. I was losing my absolute hatred and disgust for the city, and very disappointed in myself for that.

I desired nothing more to collapse into bed early that night. Which was exactly what I did.

That was the first night I dreamed of Layla Kelby.


	4. Chapter 4 Invitations

In my dream it was pitch black dark, except for one glowing object ahead of me. I looked closer and found that the object was the back of Layla walking away from me, leaving me in the nothingness. I tried walking, jogging, sprinting, but I could get no closer to her. I tried saying, calling, shouting her name, but she never turned back to me. On top of this the incredible urge to touch her, kiss her, anything was multiplied. It was unbearable. After what seemed like an eternity of this, I would wake up, unsatisfied and deeply troubled.

Unsurprisingly, my accident was quickly old news and I happily went back to blending into the background. My small group of friends, however, wouldn't drop it. Jesse, Michelle, Erica, they constantly buzzed about something related to my stupid fall. And none of them forgot who had rescued me. I tried to change the focus whenever her name came up, saying anyone would have dove in after me, but there was no way I could know if that was true. They went on and on about how she must like me or something, because she would never help someone the way she did normally. Every time this was mentioned I quickly shut down the conversation. I told them there was no way. I was right, of course, and there was no point in getting my already highly delusional expectations up.

No one ever said anything to Layla herself about the incident. Everyone avoided the Kelbys as usual. They stayed together, sat at the same table at lunch together as usual, and went back to completely ignoring me.

When she sat on the edge of her seat next to me in Biology, she seemed totally oblivious to my presence. She gave herself away though when she occasionally tightened her fists into white balls. I got used to it. I simply came to the conclusion that she regretted saving me.

I wanted to talk to her so badly; I tried the day after the incident. None of my questions had been answered and I was still pretending like she had been standing next to me the entire time. Added to this was my delayed sense of gratitude. She _had_ saved my life after all.

She was already sitting down in Biology when I walked in and sat down, murmuring a polite hello. She turned her head as minimally as possible in my direction, and that was it. That was the extent of our conversation for weeks. She sat a foot away from me every day, her scent emanating from her fiery hair, close enough to touch, yet I only watched. I couldn't help myself. And as I watched, every day her electric blue eyes slowly darkened. They didn't dim; even when they were close to navy blue they kept their spark. I didn't let her see me staring though. I was painfully miserable. And the dreams wouldn't stop.

My dad noticed my depression through my emails and tried to call a few times. I refused to tell the real reason of my dejection. I made something up about Betsy or the ever-smoldering weather.

Michelle was obviously pleased with Layla and my silence with each other. She became even more confident and chatty, sitting on my desk in the beginning of Biology popping out her hip. I think she was trying to be attractive, but it was lost to me.

One day while we walked to class Jesse brought up the upcoming spring dance. Like so many other things, this made me cringe. I couldn't dance and I didn't have anyone who wanted to go with me anyway. Jesse asked me if he could ask Michelle, and I almost laughed. I assured him I wasn't going to ask her, or go at all for that matter. He acted like I was crazy for not liking Michelle that way but I couldn't understand why he did. I wished him luck anyway.

The next day Jesse surprised me by being completely silent all day. I tried to joke with him, to get him to crack a smile or something, but he didn't respond. I was afraid to ask what was wrong for fear that Michelle had turned him down. If he really thought that Michelle and I liked each other, he would never tell me he had been rejected.

My thoughts were confirmed during lunch, when they sat as far from each other as possible. Then before Biology started when Michelle told me Jesse has asked her out.

"That's great, Michelle," I tried to sound enthusiastic.

"Well… I didn't exactly say yes…" she sounded like she was waiting for something.

"Why not? I think he really likes you," this time I had a disapproving hint.

Her cheeks turned hot pink. "I thought maybe… you were planning on asking me." This stopped me. I felt a rush of guilt take over my stomach, but quickly forgot the feeling when I saw Layla tilt her head the tiniest bit towards me.

"Michelle, you should tell Jesse yes." I said strongly.

"Did you already ask someone?" she looked like she might cry, but her eyes flashed towards Layla before returning to mine.

"No, I didn't. I'm not going at all." I assured her quickly. She demanded to know why and I couldn't admit that my dancing was the only reason in front of this… audience.

"Uh, I'm going to Sacramento that Saturday," I made up on the spot. I've never been a good liar but I almost believed myself. And I needed to get out of L.A. anyway, so why not?

"Can't you do that some other time?" she looked desperate.

"Nope. So don't make Jesse wait any longer. He likes you a lot."

"Yeah… I guess so…" she mumbled and turned away to find her own seat. I put my head down and closed my eyes, sighing. Jesse and Michelle would be good together. Not that that dissolved any of my guilt. Soon Mr. Banner started talking and I pushed my head back up.

And after weeks of nothing, Layla was staring at me with curiosity and frustration just like before, with her now nearly black eyes. I stared right back, surprised and waiting for her usual quick turn away, but she just kept gazing into my eyes, searching for something I didn't think I could give her. There was no way I could turn my eyes away from her though. My hands started to sweat and made a loud clammy noise against my desk. Damn it.

The teacher repeated the question that I hadn't heard, waiting for Layla to answer. She reluctantly pulled her eyes away from mine and gave it to him. I nearly collapsed onto my desk. I wiped my wet palms on my jeans and flipped the page of my book, searching for my place without success. I moved my curls to the side of my face again like I had before and tried to make myself as small as possible. I was ashamed of myself for the rush of uncontrollable emotion just from eye contact with her. I had seen pretty girls before! I had to find some way to break her hold on me. It was completely tragic and couldn't be healthy.

I tried desperately and unsuccessfully to ignore her for the rest of class, then just tried to make her think I was ignoring her. The bell finally rang and I, as quickly as possible without dropping something, scooped up my books. I expected her to dash out like usual, but she didn't.

"Dan?" Her melodic voice shouldn't have been so familiar and it shouldn't have made me want to fall on the floor in relief. But, of course, it did. I turned slowly, not wanting to get lost in her eyes once again but knowing it was impossible to avoid. I didn't want to feel the attachment that I knew would be there. I know my expression was weary when my eyes finally met hers; her expression however was unreadable as usual. She didn't say anything else.

"Oh, so you're talking to me now?" I finally asked, not caring about my tone.

She tried not to smile. "No, not really," she admitted.

This just made me more angry and tired. I gritted my teeth, temper rearing. "Then what exactly do you want with me, Layla?" my teeth stayed gritted. It was easier to hold my anger this way.

"I'm sorry." She sounded sincere. "I suppose I am being somewhat rude, but it's better this way, really."

I let my jaw relax. She was serious. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's better if we're not friends," she explained, still sincere. "Trust me."

My anger exploded. I'd heard that from way too many girls in my life.

"It's too bad you had to wait until now to come to that conclusion, you could have saved yourself all this time and regret."

"Regret?" for once since I had met her, she was caught off guard. "What regret?"

"Regret for ever coming near me or that stupid pool."

She was shocked. She stared at me speechlessly. When she finally found words, she was almost angry. "You think I regret saving your life?"

"Obviously!" I snapped back.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Yep. She was definitely angry. I didn't care anymore though. I sharply turned my back to her, clenched my jaw again to avoid saying anything I'd regret, then stood and paced to the door. I meant to stomp, strong and manly and pointedly, but of course I tripped over the stupid threshold and dropped all my books. Not only dropped, but sprawled over the entire entryway. I debated leaving them there for my own dignity, but sighed and bent to pick them up. Layla had already crouched and picked them all up in a pile. She handed them to me, her face hard.

"Thanks." I spat out.

Her face got harder. "You're welcome." She said just as vehemently.

I turned from her and made my way quickly to Gym, not falling this time. Gym was a nightmare, as usual. Especially today considering my mind was full of Layla. I survived though, and practically sprinted out when it was over.

I almost ran to my pretty car, trying my hardest to avoid everyone. I almost had a stroke when a girlish figure was leaning against the side of my car. Then I realized it was just Erica. I started breathing again.

"Hey, Erica," I said.

"Hi, Dan."

"What's up?" I said, unlocking the door. I wasn't paying attention so I didn't hear the anxious edge to her voice, and her next words completely knocked me off guard.

"Uh… I just wanted to know if… you wanted to go to the dance with me?" her voice was very weak. So I was completely wrong about the finding a date part of not going to the dance.

"Doesn't the guy usually ask the girl?" I said, rather rudely, but I was still in shock.

"Generally," she admitted quietly, embarrassed.

I fed her my excuse about Sacramento politely, trying to get rid of her as quickly as possible.

"Oh, well okay, maybe next time." She tried to smile. I agreed with a smile of my own, and she was gone. I hoped she didn't take that too literally. Just then I heard a light giggle.

Layla was gracefully walking past the front of my car, eyes straightforward, pink lips pressed together. I nearly ripped the handle off of the door trying to get in, slamming it loudly after me. I started the purring engine as fast as I could and pulled out into the aisle. Layla was already in her car, two spaces down, sliding smoothly out in front of me, cutting me off. She stopped there, waiting for her family. I looked for them, and found them way down by the cafeteria. This would take forever. I seriously considered taking out her back fender but there were too many witnesses. I sat there for a while, AC blowing in my face, headache starting to form. Finally I watched as Addison, Raelle, Ethan, Jackson, Erin, and Enton piled into Layla's and another car. In her rearview mirror, Layla's eyes were on me. I revved the engine uncomfortably, really wanting to press the gas. But they were all in, and Layla was speeding away. It was incredible how even her car was graceful. I drove home as fast as possible, a little carelessly, rubbing my throbbing temple the whole way.

I got home and made Nadia and I chicken enchiladas for dinner. It was a long process, meaning it would keep me busy for a while. During my vegetable chopping Jesse called happily, telling me Michelle had finally accepted. We talked about other people and couple suggestions for a few minutes, and then he had to go call someone else.

I concentrated on dinner, but hard as I tried I couldn't keep my mind from analyzing every word Layla's soft mouth had spoken today. What did she mean, it was better if we weren't friends?

My gut wrenched as I realized what she had to mean. She must have seen how absorbed I was by her; she must be creeped out and not want to lead me on, she wanted to cut all ties so we couldn't even be friends… because she wasn't interested in me at all.

Of course she wasn't interested in me, I thought angrily. Angrier at myself for thinking she ever could be than her for not being interested. I was in no way interesting. And she was. Incredibly interesting and alluring and beautiful and perfect.

Fine, then. I could leave her alone. I could completely ignore her, if I worked at it. I would get through the rest of my horrible high school years then go somewhere lush and wet for college. I was stupid for coming here and it was becoming more and more obvious. I finished the enchiladas and put them in the oven.

Nadia came in cheerfully with a laundry basket under one arm, humming quietly. She sat down and we enjoyed dinner together, our new habit.

"Hey Nadia, a week from Saturday I'm going to Sacramento, if that's okay with you and Betsy. Okay?" I didn't exactly ask for permission, but then she wasn't technically my parent.

"It's fine with me and I'm sure Betsy will be okay. Why though?" she responded easily.

"I wanted to look for a few special books. Maybe some different clothes since mine don't really suit this weather." I was only spending money on food so Betsy's allowance was burning a hole in my pocket.

"Okay, but does that mean you're missing the dance?" she asked suspiciously. Of course she had to ask.

"Actually I'm not going. I can't dance." I said reluctantly.

"That's nonsense. Everyone can dance. But okay." And she dropped it.

The next morning I pulled into the parking lot and, without knowing I was doing it, parked as close to Layla and her siblings' cars as possible. I only realized this once I was out of my car. I leaned against it and signed, cursing myself for being so infatuated and running my hands through my dark curls as a force of habit. When I opened my eyes again I had dropped my keys. As I bent down to get then, a long delicate white hand flashed out and snatched it before I could. I whipped upright. Layla Kelby was right next to me, one arm extended to my car, her graceful body stretched in front of me. She put the sleek lines of my gorgeous sports car to shame.

"How do you _do _that?" I asked in awe, also irritation with myself for staring for such a long time.

"Do what?" She dangled my keys in front of me as she spoke. I grabbed them quickly.

"Appear out of thin air."

She smiled slowly, as if she had a secret. "Dan, I don't know what you're talking about. But your tendency to follow me probably helps." Her voice was quiet, but rich and seductive.

I felt my eyebrows furrow at her perfect face. Her eyes were lighter again today, an extremely vivid cobalt blue that seemed on fire. Then I had to look away, back at my car, to reassemble my thoughts.

"Why did you block me in yesterday? In this massive parking lot there are much better ways to get out, especially when you're supposed to be pretending I don't exist." I kept my eyes away from hers.

"Oh I was just giving anyone _else_ the chance to ask you to the dance." She smiled devilishly. I almost gasped, but this time I remained calm.

"Ah. How nice of you." The sarcasm was ridiculous. She expected the blow up, but kept on anyway.

"And I'm not pretending you don't exist," she continued.

"So… irritation? That's your goal? Just annoy me to death? Since the pool incident didn't do the job?"

Anger flashed in her shocking eyes. Her pink lips pressed into a thin line, all humor gone from her face.

"Dan, you are completely out of line," she said, her quiet voice cold.

I wanted to scream, to yell that she was the one being absurd, with her changing moods and indecision on how to treat me. And she had the nerve to doubt _my_ sanity? I decided to stop humoring her and walk away.

"Wait," she called. I kept walking, wanting her to work for once. But in an instant she was next to me, easily keeping pace with my long legs.

"I'm sorry, that was rude," she said as we walked. I ignored her. "I'm not saying it isn't true, but it was rude to say anyway." She continued to me.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" I grumbled, knowing that I would really hate if she actually did.

"I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me," she laughed quietly. She seemed to have her humor back.

"Do you have multiple personality disorder?" I asked critically.

"There you go again!"

I sighed. "Fine. What is it?"

"I was wondering if, a week from Saturday- the day of the spring dance, you know-"

"Do you think that's _funny_?" I cut in, finally stopping and wheeling around toward her. The blazing sun struck straight in my green eyes as I stared back at her.

Her eyes were extremely amused. "Will you please let me finish?"

I closed my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair, showing her I was listening.

"I heard you say you were going to Sacramento that day, and I was wondering if you wanted a ride."

Uhh.

"A ride?"

"Yes, Dan."

"With?" I was seriously confused.

"With me, Dan! Obviously!" She was exasperated. But I was still stunned.

"_Why_?"

"Well, I was planning on going to Sacramento in the next few weeks, and, to be honest, I'm not sure you could survive in that car in that city."

I was offended at her accusation, but also flattered and excited at the idea of spending an entire day alone with her close by me. My mind whirled at the thought of the things we could do together, exactly how close we could get. But I had to play it cool. I had no idea what my face looked like, probably something stupid, so I had to recover.

"Honestly, Layla." I felt my chest swell at the sound of her name on my tongue, and I hated how much I loved it. "I can't keep up with you. I thought you didn't want to be my friend." I felt myself start to flirt.

"I said it would be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be." She smiled up to me slyly.

"Oh, thanks, now that's _all_ cleared up." I tried to sound sarcastic but it was lost when I couldn't help but smile back down to her. We were looking straight into each others' eyes, which certainly didn't help my clarity of thought.

"It would be more… _prudent_ for you not to be my friend," she explained. "But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Dan."

Her eyes were gloriously intense as she uttered that last sentence, her voice smoldering. I felt the wind push out of me and for a minute I couldn't remember how to breathe. She seemed to like my reaction.

"So will you go with me to Sacramento?" she asked, still just as intense. I couldn't quite speak yet, so I just grinned and nodded as confidently as possible.

She smiled wider for a moment, and then her face became serious.

"You really _should_ stay away from me," she warned. After she said this she shifted upwards into me, her eyes moving from my eyes to my lips. My eyes were level with her forehead and her scent hit me like a punch in the face. She looked as if she were seriously considering how my lips would taste, then decided against it and moved back. I would have paid a million dollars to keep her that close to me.

Once she regained her bearings she said "I'll see you in class."

She turned abruptly and walked back the way she came.


	5. Chapter 5 Blood Type

I made my way to English with a huge smile on my face. It was the cockiest I'd been in a while and I didn't even care that class had already started.

"Thank you for joining us, Mr. Strada," Mrs. Mason said in a disparaging tone.

"No problem Dolores, any time." I shot back at her, amazing myself and starting a round of laughter throughout the class. I slid into my seat with ease, before feeling my smile fade when I realized Michelle wasn't sitting in her usual seat next to me. I felt a twinge of guilt. But she and Erica both met me at the door as usual, so I figured I there weren't too many hard feelings. Michelle seemed to become more herself as we walked, gaining enthusiasm and the usual bounce in her step. A smile found its way back to my face. She talked about the weather this weekend, reminding us of the beach trip to Santa Monica. The smog was supposed to take a minor break, making her beach trip a lot more pleasant. My good attitude made it easy to sound eager; I decided I had to go to make up for disappointing her yesterday. It would be smoldering no matter what and I was guaranteed to get roasted whatever we did.

The rest of the morning passed in a happy blur. Despite my good mood it was difficult to believe that I hadn't just imagined what Layla had said, and the way her eyes had looked. Maybe I just couldn't comprehend after all my awkward years in Forks that someone could be intrigued by me, especially someone like Layla. It seemed incredibly improbable but I was sick of practicality. It was time I started believing in my own appeal.

So I was impatient and anxious as Jesse and I entered the cafeteria. I wanted to see her face, to see if she had gone back to the cold, hard person I'd done prior to this morning. Or if I hadn't imagined it and she really was interested in me. Jesse talked happily about his dance plans with Michelle; they were going as a group with the people we sat with at lunch. Not that I was paying attention at all.

Disappointment flooded through me as my eyes unerringly focused on her table. The other six were there, but she was absent. Had she gone home? I followed the still-rambling Jesse through the lunch line, crushed. I'd lost my lovely mood along with my appetite- I bought nothing but a bottle of sweet tea. I just wanted to go sit down and sulk. All of that positive thinking for nothing. I was truly never going to escape disappointment.

"Dude Layla Kelby is staring at you again," Jesse said, finally breaking through my haze with her name. "I wonder why she's sitting alone today."

My head snapped up so fast I felt my ringlets bounce lightly. I followed his gaze to see Layla, smiling angelically, staring at me from an empty table across the massive cafeteria from where she usually sat. Once she'd caught my eye, she raised one hand and motioned with a delicate white index finger for me to join her. As I stared, my spirit soaring once again, she winked. I felt a huge grin return.

"Whoah, does she mean you?" Jesse asked with astonishment in his voice.

"Looks like it, doesn't it? Better go see what she wants!" I didn't feel bad about rubbing it in, he had Michelle. I laughed in his face then turned and smoothly walked to the table where Layla was. I paused when I got there, still a bit unsure of her.

"Why don't you sit with me today?" she asked, still smiling. I sat down quickly, watching her with curiosity and caution. She was still smiling. It was hard to believe that someone as beautiful as she was could even be real. She was so extreme in every way, I expected her to disappear in a sudden puff of smoke any moment.

She seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

"This is… interesting," I said, rather lamely.

"Well…" she paused, and then the rest of the words followed in a rush. "I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly."

I waited for her to say something that made sense. The seconds ticked by.

"You realize I have no idea what you mean," I pointed out a couple minutes later.

"I know," she smiled again, and then changed the subject. "I think your friends are angry with me for stealing you."

I chuckled. "They'll survive." I could feel their eyes on my back.

"I may not give you back, though," she said with a wicked glint in her eyes and equally wicked grin on her mouth.

I grinned back. "You promise?" I couldn't help myself. She laughed, her eyes full of secrets.

"But out of curiosity, what brought all this on?"

"I told you- I got tired of trying to stay away from you. So I'm giving up." She was still smiling, but her azure eyes were serious.

"Giving up?" I repeated, confused.

"Yes- giving up trying to be good. I'm just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may." Her smile faded as she explained, and a hard edge crept into her voice.

"You lost me again."

The breathtaking angel smile reappeared.

"I always say too much when I'm talking to you- that's one of the problems."

"It's okay, I don't understand any of it," I said honestly.

"I'm relying on that."

"So, in plain English, are we… friends? Now?"

"Friends…," she mused, hesitant.

"Or maybe not," I said quietly.

She grinned. "Well, we can try, I suppose. But I'm warning you now that I'm not a good friend for you." Behind her smile, the warning was real.

"You know you say that a lot," I pointed out; trying to show her that her warning didn't frighten me.

"Yes, because you're not listening to me. I'm still waiting for you to believe it. If you're smart, you'll avoid me."

"I suppose I'm stupid then, because I don't see that happening." Might as well be honest with her.

She smiled, a little sadly.

"So, as long as I'm being stupid, we'll try to be friends?" I tried to summarize our agreement.

"That sounds about right."

I looked down at my hands wrapped around the sweet tea bottle, not sure where to take the conversation from here.

"How are you feeling?" she asked curiously.

I looked up into her deep blue eyes and, without thinking, blurted out the truth.

"Confused. About what you are."

Her sharp jaw tightened, but she kept her smile in place with some effort.

"Are you having any luck with that?" she asked in an odd voice.

"Not really," I admitted.

She laughed quietly. "What are your theories?"

I looked down again. I had been pondering back and forth between Alice Cullen and Super Woman. There was no way I was going to ruin my chances by confessing to that.

"Won't you tell me?" she asked innocently, tilting her head to one side with a shockingly tempting smile.

I shook my head. "Too embarrassing. You'll laugh at me."

"That's _really_ frustrating, you know," she whined sweetly.

"No," I disagreed, feeling some of my own anxiety coming out, "I don't see how it's frustrating when someone refuses to tell you what they're thinking, all the while _you_ make cryptic little remarks specifically designed to keep the other person completely in the dark about everything, while mercilessly flirting with him. No, that's not frustrating at all."

She pouted.

"Or maybe, say you also did a wide range of bizarre things- from saving the person's life under impossible circumstances one day to treating like the person like a leper the next, and you never explained any of that either, even after promising to do so. Would you consider that frustrating?"

"Have I really upset you that much?"

"I don't like double standards."

We stared at each other, suddenly serious. She glanced over my shoulder, and then, unexpectedly, snickered.

"Your girlfriend seems to thing I'm being rude to you. She's debating whether or not to come and take you away." She snickered again.

"That's impossible seeing as I don't have a girlfriend. I'm sure you're wrong anyway."

"People are pretty easy to read."

"Except me, right?"

"Yes, except for you." Her eyes turned sulky suddenly, her mood shifting as it did so often. "Why is that?"

This time I was smart enough to turn away from the intensity of her eyes. I stared down at my tea bottle, slowly unscrewing the cap and taking a quick swig.

"Aren't you hungry?" she said, sounding far off.

"No." Even with a teenage boy's stomach I couldn't concentrate on food around her. "You?" The table was empty in between us.

"No, I'm not hungry." She silently laughed to herself at a joke I had apparently missed.

"Can you do me a favor?" I asked after a second of hesitation.

She was suddenly wary. "That depends on what you want."

"It's not much," I assured her.

She waited, curious.

"Could you warn me shortly before the next time you decide to ignore me for my own good? Just so I'm prepared." I dared looking up at her. Her expression was in between amused and cautious.

"I think that sounds fair." She said, trying not to laugh.

"Thanks."

"Then can I have one answer in return?" she leaned in temptingly close. I couldn't refuse.

"One."

"Tell me _one_ of your theories about me."

Uh-oh. "Not that one."

"You didn't specify, you just promised one answer," she reminded me.

"Then again you've broken promises yourself, haven't you?" I shot back, leaning in a bit myself.

"Just one theory, please? I won't laugh."

"Uh, yeah you will."

She looked down, and I thought she was going to give up, but just then she glanced up at me through her long dark lashes, her azure eyes blazing at me.

She leaned in even closer, her voice breathy. "Please?"

I wasn't exactly in a trance, but I was close. How did she _do_ that?

Still staring into her eyes, almost in a monotone, I heard myself say "You don't happen to have fangs do you?" Her eyes still burned at me.

"Vampire? That's not very creative," she sounded disappointed.

"Sorry, that's all I've got." I said, mad at myself for saying that much.

"You're not even close," she teased.

"No golden lassos?"

"Nope. I'm flattered though." She giggled.

"You're not supposed to laugh, remember?" but I chuckled myself. "Oh well, I'll figure it out eventually." I said confidently.

"I wish you wouldn't try." She was serious again.

"Because…?"

"What if I'm not a superhero? What if I'm the villain?" She smiled playfully, but her eyes were cold.

"Ah," I said, as several things she'd hinted fell suddenly into place. "I see."

"Do you?" Her face was abruptly harsh, as if she were afraid she'd accidentally said too much.

"You're dangerous?" I ventured, my pulse quickening as I realized the truth of my own words. She _was_ dangerous. Extremely dangerous. Just like she had been trying to tell me all along. She just looked at me, eyes full of some emotion I couldn't comprehend.

"You're bad, very bad. But I'm not going to stay away." There was no way I could just forget her at this point.

"You're stupid." Her voice was almost inaudible. She looked down, stealing my bottle lid then spinning it on its side between her fingers. I stared at her, wondering why I didn't feel afraid. She meant what she was saying, but the only thing I felt was intense fascination and the usual need to touch her. Right about then I realized the cafeteria was quickly emptying.

I slowly got to my feet and stretched. "We're going to be late."

"I'm not going to class today," she said, twirling the lid so fast it was a blur.

"Why not?"

"It's healthy to ditch class now and then." She smiled up at me, but her yes were still troubled.

"Okay, well, I'm going," I told her. I didn't feel like scratching my so far perfect record.

She turned her attention back to my tea cap. "I'll see you later, then."

I hesitated, hating to see her alone when I could be with her, but then the first bell sent me out the door- with a last glance confirming that she hadn't moved a centimeter.

As I half-ran to class, my head was spinning faster than the bottle cap. So few questions had been answered as opposed to the unbelievable amount that had been raised. I may not know exactly what she was or what she was capable of, but I did know for certain that she was interested in me.

I was lucky; Mr. Banner wasn't in the room yet when I arrived. In Layla's sudden decision to be my friend, I had totally forgotten that Biology today, due to surprisingly good test results, would consist of a nature hike to a nearby lake today. Everyone was gathered in groups, my lunch table next to a window in the back. Michelle and another boy from the group, Andrew, looked at me as I walked through the door. Michelle looked pissed off. Andrew looked… impressed.

Armed with my new cocky grin, I quickly walked over to my group and inserted myself into the circle. Just then Mr. Banner walked in with a stack of worksheets, our assignment for the day, and asked a short blonde boy to hand them out.

"So all you have to do is fill out the chart identifying the plants you see as monocots, dicots, mosses, ferns, and so forth. It may not even count as a grade, but I'm fairly sure you can all handle it." Mr. Banner sounded regretful about agreeing to this, but picked up his water bottle and cell phone and headed out the door, expecting us to follow.

Typically I would hate being outside for over an hour in Los Angeles sun, but today, after my encounter with Layla, I felt confident I would be fine outside.

We followed a long, mostly clear path behind the school, through sparse scraggly trees and shrubbery, which opened on a tiny green lake. I was shocked that an unpolluted body of water, no matter how small, was anywhere close to the city. Michelle forgot her anger and we all had a great time. Our time was almost up when, while chasing Andrew around the water and ending up pushing him in, I reverted to my usual clumsiness and tripped over a huge tree root; banging, scraping, and tearing my shin, then toppling into the water after Andrew.

He was laughing hysterically, so were the other people who had decided to hop in the water earlier. I however, was not laughing. My shin stung like it was on fire and my favorite Converse would be ruined after this. I wiped the water out of my face, pushed my dripping hair back, and climbed up the bank onto land. Upon looking at my shin, I cussed so loud Mr. Banner, sitting down across the lake, called my name out. I ignored him stared at the torn skin hanging off my leg, my leg dripping red from my knee down into my shoes. I was right when I decided the shoes would be ruined.

"Mr. Banner, I probably need to get this checked out, right?" I called out across the water. He looked at me, did a double take, and gagged. I took that as a yes.

I pulled myself up and started walking towards the path, noticing the visible tendons moving in my leg as I went. I had never had a problem with queasiness; there was no way I could be grossed out with the number of injuries I got so often. Limping along the pathway, looking at my pulsing muscles, I didn't see Michelle pop up in front of me. It was obvious she was trying not to look down, but she looked determined.

"I'm taking you to the nurse!" and before I could protest she put my arm around her shoulder and her arm around my thin waist and tried to hoist me up. I laughed to myself. At least I was heavy enough that she couldn't lift me. She sighed and tried to pull as much of me onto her shoulders as possible, then began briskly walking back along the path. I couldn't imagine why she wanted a tall wet bleeding boy on her shoulders but she wasn't giving up.

We had walked all the way up the path and were approaching the nurse's office when I paused, needing a break, and took my weight off Michelle. It was then that heard the last voice I wanted to hear.

"Dan?" it called from the distance. I would have given anything to be imagining that horrible familiar voice.

"What's wrong? Is he hurt?" Her voice was closer now, and she sounded upset. I wasn't imagining it. I sighed as deeply as I could, anticipating the teasing I would take for this.

Michelle seemed pissed again. "He fell. And scraped his leg. I got this."

Layla basically ignored her. "Dan, are you feeling lightheaded? That looks like a lot of blood loss."

"I'm fine," I groaned. "Go away."

She laughed musically.

"I was taking him to the nurse; we were just breaking for a second."

"I'll take him," Layla said. I could hear the smile still in her voice. "You can go back to class."

"No," Michelle protested. "I'm doing it."

I had been leaning over with my hands on my knees, but suddenly the sidewalk disappeared from beneath me. My eyes flew open in shock. It took a solid minute to realize Layla's seemingly delicate hands were under my shoulders, holding my body hovering barely inches off the ground. As soon as I came to my senses I pulled her off of me and pushed myself to an upright position. Layla shot her arms under my armpits and dragged me up, scooting a bewildered me along quickly in the direction of the nurse's office. I looked back at Michelle, standing alone on the sidewalk looking like she wanted to yell at me.

"You look awful," she told me, grinning.

"I haven't had so many girls touch me in my life as I have today," I mumbled to myself. I noticed her eyes glued to my shin, unable to tear her gaze away.

"Do you have a thing with blood?" I asked, getting a bit creeped.

She broke away quickly. "Not specifically, but I suppose you could say that," she said more quietly than usual.

Layla stepped in front of me to open the door, which was good because the stinging had really set in.

"Oh my," I heard a female voice gasp, presumably the nurse at the sight of my leg. I limped through the door, dropping onto one of the generic cots and tipping my torso over with closed eyes. I sighed as the AC hit my skin.

"He fell down the bank of the lake over a tree trunk. His shin is wide open and he hasn't stopped bleeding yet." Layla said this in a matter-of-fact voice, as if she was reporting the injuries of a child she was babysitting to his parents. But I didn't interfere. Layla glided over to another dot and delicately sat on it, crossing her sleek pale legs.

I stuck my heel out for the nurse to start cleaning up the mess, refusing to sit upright. I heard Layla giggle.

"Oh dear, I'm afraid you're going to need stitches. And a lot of them." The nurse said sadly.

I grunted. "Can't you just wrap it really tight? Tape it? Anything?" The last thing I wanted was to be stuck at the hospital for hours.

"I'm sorry son, if there were another option I would but all I can do is clean this and prepare it for stitches. It won't heal up without them." I was getting on her nerves.

"I can take him," Layla inserted, surprising the nurse and I alike. "I'm done today anyway."

"You really don't have to- " I started, but she put her hand up to cut me off. I closed my eyes again in defeat.

So as soon as the nurse had cleaned up what she could, she covered me in band-aids and sent us on our way.

"Why are you doing this?" I tried to keep my voice grateful, but I don't think I pulled it off. I was curled up in Layla's passenger seat with my head against the window and the AC vent angled up at my face. She was humming along in perfect harmony with a familiar song. She didn't look at me when she responded.

"I was fairly certain Michelle was going to drag your body into the woods and have her way with you, and I was relatively certain you didn't want that." I could hear the smile in her voice but I wasn't sure how much of that answer was sarcasm.

"Okay… but really. I thought you were skipping. As in off school grounds…?" I went on.

"I never said that. And does it really matter? I told you I was going to be your… friend, now, so here I am. Would you rather try to drive to the hospital yourself?" she was avoiding answering. I didn't care enough to push it. I stayed quiet and turned up her CD player. I quickly recognized the song.

"I Know the Reason?" I looked over at her skeptically. "You're a Carbon Leaf fan?" I couldn't believe it.

"So what if I am?" she smiled slyly at me.

"I just… didn't know anyone here knew them. Wow." She was incredible.

The entire ride was spent humming along to Carbon Leaf with no conversation. I didn't know what to say.

When we got to the hospital the bleeding had stopped for the most part and the wheelchair Layla found for me was mostly a joke.

We pushed our way in and out of that hospital faster than humanly possible. Every medical personnel was easily convinced by Layla that we had to be the first to get attention. The stitches were done in fifteen minutes and the bill was talked out of in five. Before school was over we were back in Layla's car alone again. Hanging out with her definitely had its pluses.

"I suppose you probably don't want to go back… where is your house?" I gave her the directions without thinking, excited that she'd come to my house. Not that anything would happen.

"What is your father like?" she asked me suddenly. I glanced over to see her blue eyes running over my face curiously.

"He looks a lot like me, but he's more attractive. Less skinny. I have too much Betsy in me. My dad's more outgoing than I am, braver. He's old and grumpy and poor for the most part. He's… maybe my best friend." I wasn't supposed to be open like this, not with Layla. I wasn't supposed to scare her off like this.

"How old are you, Dan?" Her voice sounded frustrated for a reason I didn't even bother to try and fathom. She stopped the car and I realized we were at my mansion.

"I'm seventeen," I responded, waiting for her explanation.

"You don't seem seventeen." She sounded like my babysitter again, but this time I laughed. And before I thought about what I was saying, it popped out of my mouth.

"Do you want to come in?"

I immediately regretted it. The question sat there in between us, floating in mid air staring at both of us, waiting for a reaction. I couldn't meet her eyes, but I knew she was staring at me, maybe with as much disbelief as I felt in myself. What was I thinking?

Before I could berate myself further, she cleared her throat.

"Yes, I'd love to."

I jerked my head up at her, my eyes questioning her severely. She only smiled, turned the volume down, pulled the key out of the ignition, and got out. I sat there, flabbergasted, surely grinning like an idiot. She knocked on my window, smiling, when I remembered to get out.

I followed her up my walkway to my porch, acting like a stranger to my own home. I shook myself and stepped ahead of her, opening the door. She stepped in and looked around, looking surprised at the size.

"Yeah, it's huge. I'm not so crazy about it though." I led her to the kitchen and offered her a chair, where she sat politely.

"You want a drink? We've got Coke, Sprite, milk, orange juice, water…?"

"No, I'm fine. Thanks, though. Why don't you like this house? It's amazing. Huge. A normal kid would die for a place like this. I bet it's great for parties." She spoke naturally and quickly.

"Well if you haven't caught on yet, I'm not exactly the party type. And I don't like the size. It's not very warm. And my mom's never here, making it even more empty." It came so naturally, I didn't watch what I was saying. With Layla, I didn't feel like I needed to.

"Huh. Well that's understandable. Sorry. About your mom, I mean. My family is great; I can't imagine being as alone as it seems you are. But you can get along… you seem much older than you are." She was looking into my eyes, trying to figure me out.

"Yeah, my dad says I've never been a kid. But… you don't seem much like a junior in high school either," I observed.

She made a face and changed the subject.

"What do you think of Susan?"

I honestly didn't remember talking to her about Susan. "Um, I like her. A lot. She's been more of a mom to me than Betsy. And she takes care of him like he deserves. He's pretty much crazy about her."

"Do you approve?" she asked.

"Absolutely, not that it matters anyway. As long as he's happy, and she definitely makes him happy."

"That's very… generous… I wonder," she mused.

"What?"

"Would he extend the same courtesy to you, do you think? No matter who your choice was?" She was suddenly intent, her eyes searching mine.

"I think so… but he's the parent after all. It's different."

"No one too… scary then," she said, leaving me unsure how much was teasing.

I smiled anyway. "What do you mean by scary? Multiple facial piercings and extensive tattoos?"

"That's one definition, I suppose."

"What's your definition of scary?"

She ignored my question and asked me another. "Do you think that _I_ could be scary?" She raised one arched eyebrow, and the faint trace of a smile lightened her beautiful face.

"If you wanted to, maybe. Not to me though." I answered honestly.

"Are you frightened of me now?" the smile vanished, and her angelic face was suddenly serious.

"Never." She could tell I was being honest. The smile didn't return.

"So the Kelbys adopted you?" I verified.

She was instantly cautious. "Yes."

"What happened to your parents?" I should have thought before I said it.

"They died many years ago." Her tone was matter-of-fact.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"I don't really remember them that clearly. Christopher and Amelia have been my parents for a long time now." It was obvious from the way she spoke that she loved them very much. "I can't imagine two better people."

"You're very lucky." It was the only thing I could think to say. She nodded happily.

"And come to think of it my siblings, and the Hurleys, aren't going to like sitting and waiting for me."

"Oh, sorry, I guess you have to go." I didn't want to say goodbye to her.

"And you probably want your pretty sports car back." She said wisely. I smiled, showing more teeth than usual.

"Have fun at school," she got to her feet slowly, seeming to hesitate.

"Won't I see you tomorrow?"

"No. Erin and I are starting the weekend early."  
"What are you going to do?" I didn't know where any of our borders stood so I asked the question without shame. Hopefully I didn't sound too disappointed though.

"We're going to go out on Christopher's yacht for some fishing, sunbathing, et cetera." I remembered Nadia talking about cruises frequently.

I stood up as I said halfheartedly "Oh, well, have fun." She could definitely see the dejection in my eyes.

"I will. I'll see you soon enough." It sounded like a promise. She should have been walking out the door at this point, climbing into her Corvette and speeding down to the school to pick up her siblings and friends and go home. She should have left without a look back, quickly. But she just stood there, looking into my eyes, face a mask. I couldn't tell if she was waiting for something, expecting something, needing something. As I stood staring back into her eyes, inhaling her scent much too closely, I realized there was something I needed. Very badly.

I took a deep breath and reached out, holding her chin in my palm. She looked shocked, but I didn't falter. Her skin wasn't as cold as it was the other day, more normal now. Before I could change my mind I pulled her chin to me and lay my lips on hers. Her lips were unbelievably soft and smooth, the perfect size to fit with my own. But as we kept contact her lips, chin, every part of skin near me drastically changed in temperature from a normal cool to fiercely hot, almost hurting me. She suddenly ripped her head away from me and pushed my chest with both hands, making me stumble backwards with more force than I knew she could exert.

"I have to go. Now." She didn't look at me. She ran to the door and slammed it on her way out. I braced myself against the countertop with no idea what had just happened.

But without an ounce of regret.


	6. Chapter 6 Scary Stories

As I sat in my room, trying to concentrate on the third act of _Macbeth_, trying to remember what my English teacher Ms. Buis had said about it- something about a paradox was all I could muster- I was really listening for my car. I would have thought, even over the occasional screaming siren, I could have heard the engine's gentle purr. But when I went to look out the curtain, it was suddenly there.

I had just remembered about the beach trip and now wasn't looking forward to Friday. When it came it more than lived up to my bad expectations. Of course there were the shin comments. Jesse especially seemed to get a kick out of that story. Luckily Michelle had kept her mouth shut and no on seemed to know about Layla's involvement. Jesse did have a lot of questions about lunch, though.

"Hey so what did Layla Kelby want yesterday?" Jesse asked in Trig.

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. "She never really got to the point."

"You looked like you were in a trance," he noted.

"Did I?" Maybe because I was in one.

"You know, I've never seen her sit with anyone but her family before. That was weird."

"Weird," I agreed. He seemed annoyed, probably just jealous. It probably shouldn't have but it made me feel pretty good about myself.

The worst part about Friday was that, even though I knew she wasn't going to be there, I still hoped. When I walked into the cafeteria with Jesse and Michelle, I couldn't keep from looking at her table, where Raelle and Ethan, Addison, Jackson and Enton sat talking, heads close together. And I couldn't stop the gloom that engulfed me as I realized I didn't know how long I would have to wait before I saw her again. And for the first time it occurred to me that she may not want to see me, after the kiss. That made me feel even worse, the thought that I may have already damaged our somewhat shaky relationship.

At my usual table, everyone was full of our plans for the next day. Michelle was animated again, going over and over the things we all needed to bring, as if a beach trip wasn't pretty self explanatory. The weatherman promised a break in the smog and a small breeze, so maybe the outing wouldn't be completely miserable.

I intercepted a few unfriendly glances from Luke, one of our group, during lunch, which I didn't understand until we were all walking out of the room together. I was right behind him, and either he was unaware of that or he just didn't care.

"…dunno why _Dan_ doesn't just sit with the Kelbys from now on," I heard him muttering to Michelle. I'd never noticed what a nasally voice he had, and I was surprised by the venom in it. I really didn't know him very well at all, I just assumed he was jealous.

"He's my friend; he sits with us," Michelle whispered back loyally, but also a bit territorially. I paused to let Jesse and Andrew pass me. I didn't want to get too close to Luke.

That night at my usual dinner with Nadia, she seemed enthusiastic about my trip to Santa Monica in the morning. I think she felt guilty for having to step in as my substitute mother, and was happy I was finally doing something with my friends. It turned out she wasn't in the house when Layla was over. She knew all the kids I was going with and seemed to approve. I wondered if she would approve of my plan to ride to Sacramento with Layla Kelby. Not that I was planning on telling her.

"Do you know were the best place to fish would be?" I wanted to test what Layla had told me.

"Strange question, but probably pretty inland. Not very far out. In these waters right off the sandbar the sharks dominate. Oh! I forgot to tell you. You've heard me talk about Magdalena, right?"

So Layla was supposedly fishing in shark waters… that was something to think about. And I had heard Nadia mention Magdalena a few times but I hadn't wanted to interrupt. I nodded quickly.

"Well I tend to speak before I think, and just so you know that's my daughter. She's a sophomore, that's a year younger than you, right?" I nodded again. "It turns out she also has plans to go to Santa Monica tomorrow! Maybe you'll run into her!" she continued excitedly. I wasn't stupid. I could tell she had set this up. I only hoped Magdalena didn't turn out to be an annoying kid that stuck herself to me all day. I tried to look happy.

I meant to sleep in but when Nadia came in my room to collect dirty clothes, she opened my window as far as it would go. I woke up inhaling the freshest air I had experienced since arriving in L.A. I couldn't go back to sleep.

I pulled up to the gas station we had planned to meet at to see Erica, Bailey, Courtney, Jesse, Andrew, and Luke. There were three other guys there that I didn't know, though one of which I was certain I had tripped over in Gym on Friday. That one chuckled when he met my eyes and whispered something to Luke. Luke took off his sweatshirt to reveal the tightest t-shirt I had ever seen in my life, wrapped around his completely ripped torso. I had to keep myself from laughing, but I could see it was going to be one of _those_ days.

At least Michelle was happy to see me.

"You came!" she squealed as soon as I got out of my car, obviously delighted. "Isn't the weather fabulous?!"

"Oh, yes… fabulous…" I couldn't help but laugh.

"We're just waiting for Lilly and Sam… unless you invited someone," Michelle added.

"Nope, but a… family fried might be coming. Nothing to worry about," I added quickly. She looked hesitant, but shrugged.

"Will you ride in my car?" she pouted and put her hand on my chest, pitifully looking up at me.

"Sure."

She smiled blissfully. It was so easy to make Michelle happy.

Lilly ended up bringing two extra people, so that every seat was full and Jesse got to squeeze in between Michelle and I. He seemed pretty happy.

Santa Monica was only about thirty miles from L.A. so it took us right around a half hour to get there. Everyone hopped out cheerfully but me. I sat in the truck with the door open, squinting in the blinding sun. Ugh. I chose board shorts and a thin t-shirt, but I knew before long I would have to take my shirt off. The heat was breathtaking. I regretfully slid out of the truck, reminding myself to thank Nadia for forcing sun block on me this morning. I trudged over to Jesse.

"Dude, what are we gonna do all day?" he looked at me like I was stupid, then whipped his shirt off.

"SWIM!" he shouted at me and barreled off to the water. I was left looking moronic by myself when Michelle skipped over to me. She had also stripped and was wearing only a skimpy red bikini. I had to admit, it was a nice sight.

"You coming in?" she beamed up at me.

"Uh, yeah. Definitely. I just forgot something in the car, I'll be right back." I walked back to the truck, opening the door and leaning against it. I didn't want to be here. Maybe I could get away with just walking up the crowded beach for now.

I took my shirt off, a little reluctantly, and snuck past the others. I walked up for what seemed like an hour, lost in my thoughts as usual. I fiercely wished Layla were here, walking next to me, telling me what exactly she was, if I was extremely lucky kissing me , that kiss. The only girl I had ever kissed was Jordan Murphy in the seventh grade, at the first boy-girl party our class had ever had. It was very dark in that closet and neither of us knew what we were doing. Needless to say, it wasn't a great experience. Now the kiss with Layla, on the other hand, that was incomparable. It was obvious she knew how to kiss. Even if I had forced myself on her, she gave in, for maybe a split second, but that time had been heavenly. I could only imagine what kisses she was capable of…

Distracted by this last trail of thought, I accidentally stepped on a dark-skinned girl lying on her stomach. She had thick curly black hair and was wearing a tiny white bikini. The contrast had a nice effect.

"Hey! Watch it!" she jerked up angrily, but softened when she saw me. I get that a lot. I guess I'm so pathetic people don't feel like I'm worth being mad at.

"I'm sorry. Really. I was thinking about something else." And with that, I tried to scoot by.

"Hey, wait. You're Dan Strada right?" her voice was a bit hoarse, but it suited her. She lifted her giant sunglasses up to look at me more clearly and smiled a straight, gleaming white smile at me.

"Um, yeah. How'd you know?" she really was cute. Her eyes were a golden chocolate color and long black ringlets fell over her shoulders.

"My mom is actually Nadia. You're cleaning lady?" she didn't seem embarrassed about this, even with her friends sitting right next to her. It made me like her more.

"Yeah… more like stand-in mom. She's awesome. Wait, I don't know you're name," I realized as I said it.

"Magdalena. But you can call me Lena. Or Maggie. Whatever," she laughed in that rough voice. It made me smile.

"Okay. Good to know. I guess I'll see you around. I'm just gonna keep walking now." I was getting awkward again, I could hear myself. But again she stopped me.

"Wait. You want someone to walk with?" she dropped her glasses back into place and smiled again. I wasn't sure what this meant, and I wasn't sure how I felt about Maggie (I decided this was what I would call her). But I was sure I wanted to spend more time with her.

"Uh. Sure." I smiled back.

I can only imagine what we looked like walking next to each other, my stunningly white skin and her stunningly brown skin. I honestly couldn't make myself care, though.

"So what does a guy like you do in a place like L.A.?" she asked jokingly.

"A guy like me?"

"Well no offense but it's pretty obvious you're not a party animal," she responded honestly.

"That obvious? Yeah… I spend a lot of time reading," I sounded painfully lame, even to myself. I quickly changed the subject. "So then what do you do around here?"

"Uh friends, family. Not much. I'm in an accelerated program in the school I go to so I'm actually taking senior classes. That takes up most of my time. What?" she asked indignantly when I started laughing.

"It's just, you _really_ don't seem the nerd type," I smiled at her. She laughed.

"I guess that's a compliment. And it's not often you find a guy that chooses to spend free time reading," she responded.

"Well I don't have much else to do. I mean it's pretty obvious I can't spend my time tanning. Or partying, as you so astutely pointed out. So…" I trailed off.

"You'll find something to do. This city is always doing something."

"Do you have any weird hobbies?" I wasn't sure what I was looking for.

"Umm… my family goes fishing once a month. That's about it," she replied.

"Oh? Fishing for what kind exactly?"

"A really huge, rare kind. They're ridiculously hard to catch. Their minds are sharp. I can't pronounce the name," Something struck as me strange in that statement. But just then she laughed her coarse laugh again, making me forget. I realized that laugh made me smile every time.

"Sounds like fun. Oh crap! What time is it?" I remembered my group was supposed to meet back at the truck and eat before heading back.

"Judging by the sun…" she shaded her eyes with her hand and looked into the sky. "I'd say around three?" I was impressed.

"Agh. I have to start heading back. It was nice to meet-"

"I can walk back with you if you want? I grew up on these beaches, I know my way." I didn't see why not.

"Sure."

We walked and talked about school and books and life until we reached my group. Jesse looked impressed.

"Well, nice to meet you, _Maggie_," he said in a voice deeper than his natural one. I suppose he was trying to be seductive.

I intervened. "I'm glad we hung out today. I'd like to again, if that's okay?" Was I asking her out? I couldn't tell, and I was the one asking.

But she seemed to know, because she beamed that white smile up at me before answering: "I'd love to. I'll see you around," and with that, Maggie leaned up and kissed me on the cheek. I felt my boyish grin before I could help it.

"Okay, bye." I said smugly. She walked back down the beach with more swing in her hips than I noticed earlier.

"Score, dude! Dang. I underestimated you." Jesse high-fived me. I had to laugh.

We went to eat at Applebees then drove home, all happily sunkissed, or in my case roasted. I was dropped off close to last, and as I was getting my bag together Jesse scooted over to me.

"Hey dude my friend in Pasadena is having a party tomorrow night if you wanna come. I can give you a ride too if it's easier. So you coming?" he was keeping his voice low, as if maybe Michelle wasn't supposed to hear. I didn't see why not. Maggie had given me confidence today.

"Yeah, definitely man." I agreed. We had reached my house.

"Awesome. I'll pick you up at seven." He slapped me on the back and I climbed out of the truck.

Nadia was off weekends so I had the house to myself. I went to bed early, nervous about the next night.

I woke up with a sick feeling in my stomach. Anxiety for that night.

I spent hours debating what shirt to wear, which jeans looked best, if I should try to gel back some of the particularly crazy curls, if I should shave or leave some stubble, before I came to a final conclusion. I chose a pair of dark wash jeans with minimal ripping, a black t-shirt, and a grey flannel button up shirt left open. I decided I wouldn't bother with my hair, I would only make it look more stupid.

I ordered a pizza and lay on my couch, thinking. I had never been to a big party, as I imagined this one would be. If Jesse was close to those in charge of it, it would be crazy. But I had to think of this as a way to network, to meet people. I was a normal, fairly attractive guy, I thought, maybe, and I should be able to handle one party.

At six I hopped in the shower. At six-twenty I shaved. At six-thirty I got dressed, spraying on cologne I used maybe three times a year and coughing. At six-forty-five I heated up a piece of pizza and wrote Betsy a note. And at seven on the dot I heard a honk out front and took a deep breath. Here went nothing.

I slid into Jesse's grey Mustang and we took off. He blasted something resembling heavy metal the whole time so I was stuck with my thoughts. I made up my mind I would have something to drink, but I would not get fubar. And I would not go too far with a girl I didn't know. Of all this, I was sure.

We pulled up to a house even bigger than mine with music throbbing from inside and a couple drunk people already collapsed on the lawn. And it wasn't even eight.

To my horror, but not complete surprise, Jesse patted me on the shoulder and slipped away in the opposite direction as me as soon as we walked in. I shook my head. Trying to orient myself with the house, I looked around. There was a massive staircase straight ahead of me with a crystal chandelier vibrating in the center of the hall. On my right was a large room cleared to make a dance floor, complete with a disco ball. Definitely not the direction for me. On my left was a huge hall with a long table of food and another of drinks. There was a doorway that lead to a kitchen at the back wall. That was definitely more like it.

The food table was complete with every type of fruit I had ever seen in my life, along with two chocolate fountains, one white and one milk. There was also a couple vegetable trays and some dip and chips, but if I was going to do anything with a girl tonight that was probably unwise. The drink table had hundreds of liquors and neon plastic cups, a kind of do-it-yourself I guessed. There was also a giant punch bowl full of who knew what and four coolers underneath full of various beers. I didn't feel like fixing my own drink, it would probably taste disgusting anyway, so I went with the punch. I was waiting for the punch ladle when the girl using it turned to me.

"Dan! Hey! What're you doing here?" I recognized the coarse voice before the face. Maggie looked amazing, decked out in a short pale yellow dress dipping down dramatically in the back. Her dark skin glowed and black ringlets surrounded her angular face. Electric blue was smeared over her eyes.

"I came with my friend Jesse. But… wow. Maggie. You look fantastic," I managed over the music. She smiled even bigger.

"Not so bad yourself, hot stuff. Follow me." And she pulled the arm that was holding my punch, almost sloshing it over the side. I grabbed a couple strawberries on my way out.

When we got to the steps I hesitated. They had to lead to the bedrooms, and I was in no way ready for that.

"Whoa whoa whoa, hold up," I stopped us.

"Calm down! There are places to sit up here. I'm not like that!" and she resumed our hike. I couldn't think of a reason to say no.

I followed her up the steps and down a long hallway to a small room with a very comfy looking couch. We fell onto it and faced each other. I took a bite of one of my strawberries.

"So wow, how weird that we see each other two days in a row. You really do look great, by the way. I didn't notice how green your eyes were yesterday," Maggie started. I chewed my strawberry before responding.

"Well thanks. So do you. You really do know this area don't you? I didn't expect you to be here at all. I'm glad you are though!" She chuckled. I started to take a sip of the punch when she held up her hand.

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you. I got a buzz from one sip," I drank it anyway. It really didn't taste that bad. Kind of like rubbing alcohol and fruit punch. I gagged a little, but took another sip.

"Well I don't party very often so I might as well enjoy myself." I decided out loud. She chuckled again. Feeling a bit looser now, I continued.

"I imagine you know how to party though, right?" It didn't occur to me that that might offend her.

"I guess. Growing up here. But don't get me wrong, I'm not a slut. Not by any means," she said firmly and I nodded. I believed her. She definitely seemed like she could take care of herself. I happened to glance out the door and saw a glimpse of red hair. That reminded me.

"Do you know anything about the Kelbys? Or Hurleys?" I asked.

Maggie tensed. "Yeah. Not a great crowd to hang around with," she warned. That was weird.

"Why?" I responded quickly.

"They're… different. Very different. Dangerously different." At this, I took another sip. Probably not smart of me.

"Huh. Different how? From a weird place? Or…?" I had no idea what she meant.

She shook her head and took a deep breath. "Remember when I said my family went fishing? Rare, smart, huge fish?" Whoa, wait a minute.

"They're fish?" I said a little loudly, and a lot stupidly. She shook her head again.

"What's… between fish and human?" she sounded like she was talking to a slow third grader. Which was probably about as coherent as I was at the moment.

"I… I can't really think straight right now. Oh! A strawberry!" I found my other one and ate it quickly. She full out laughed now.

"You are so wasted. But that's okay. I think it's adorable." And with that, she leaned into me, pulling my chin to meet her and laying her lips on mine. I was shocked. Pleasantly shocked, of course. I responded as best I could, what with my extremely minimal lip experience. She tasted incredible, warm and sweet. And she knew what she was doing.

This went on for some time, though I can't really be sure how long. We got more and more enthusiastic until I had to call it quits. I really liked Maggie and I didn't want to ruin it. She suggested we first go to the kitchen and get me some water, then maybe move to the dance floor. I wasn't in my right mind, that much was obvious, so I agreed to the dancing.

I staggered down the stairs towards the kitchen, my arm around Maggie not only as a sign of affection, but because I needed the support. She didn't seem to mind. We made our way to the kitchen and she got me some ice water. She left me with my water for a minute and came back with a plate of strawberries. I put my water down and took the strawberries from her, setting them on the counter. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her.

"Thank you." I said simply. I couldn't figure out why she was being so nice to me, or where my party personality had come from (the punch, most likely), but I was insanely glad I had come.

After another at least hour of making out and close, awkward dancing Jesse found me and informed me we were leaving. I was a bit more sober at this point and I had to agree. I pulled Maggie to the door with me and we stepped outside the door. While Jesse went to pull the car around Maggie and I shared one last, warm, sweet kiss.

"I had a fabulous time tonight. Thank you." She said, that gleaming smile playing on her lips.

"I have much more to thank you for." I replied.

"Okay. Well I'll see you around." She said finally, kissing me on the cheek and slipping back in the door to the throbbing music. I glanced over the lawn, curious about the groups sitting around. As I scanned a very distinct, very familiar head of fiery red hair approached.

"Layla!" I exclaimed.

Her fierce smooth mask was in place. "Exactly how many girls do you kiss in a week, Dan? I really didn't peg you as that kind of guy." And before I could think of a response, she marched back into the house. I was happy before she showed up. But now that I thought about her, about our talking and that kiss, I felt miserable. Miserable at what I did with Maggie, even though Layla and I didn't really have anything legitimate. That I knew of. I was so confused, and so drunk, that I thanked God when I saw the grey Mustang.


	7. Chapter 7 Nightmare

I woke up the next morning feeling like my head had been repeatedly stomped on with a steel boot. Not a good feeling. I sat up in bed, then immediately fell back down. The headache was unbearable. At that moment Nadia bustled in with her basket of dirty laundry she was collecting. I wasn't sure if I should admit to her I was horribly hungover, or try and cover it. I decided to lay low.

"Hey Nadia," I said in what sounded like a whisper.

"Hello Dan!" she practically shouted it, then 'accidentally' knocked over a stack of my books, which loudly clattered to the hardwood floor. I almost teared up at the throbbing in my head. So she definitely knew I had been screwed up last night.

"Ughh Nadia I need something. Fast. I think my head's gonna explode pretty soon," I admitted desperately.

"I know, I know. I already have some French toast going and four Tylenol waiting for you downstairs. Come down whenever you're ready." She walked out quickly. I sighed and rolled out of my huge bed.

I eased down the stairs relying on the banister and made my way slowly to the kitchen. The smell of French toast overwhelmed me, smelling incredibly good and making me want to puke at the same time.

"I've never been this messed up," I assured Nadia as I collapsed into a chair. It was true.

"I believe you. You don't seem the type," she said absentmindedly as she flipped the toast. That triggered my memory. Maggie, Layla, fish people. Whoa. My head hurt even more.

"Where are those Tylenol?" I asked, putting my head down. Nadia put the pills down in front of me with a glass of milk. I didn't know what to think. Layla was a fish person? No. I would just have to think that over when I felt better. Which could very well be next month.

I was already late for school and I didn't really care. I made straight As so it didn't matter. I would enjoy my breakfast and recuperate as much as I could before I went back to school. Whose bright idea was it to have a party on a Sunday anyway? Oh well.

I ate my French toast and drank my milk peacefully. Then I took a quick shower and climbed in my car regretfully. I really didn't want to go to that terrible building with those terrible people. And I had no idea what to think about Layla. But, being the person I was, of course I was going to go back.

I slowly pulled myself out of my car and walked to- oh, perfect, it was time for Biology. Naturally.

I entered the classroom with the rest of the class and took my seat next to Layla. So she was back. Wonderful. And she was obviously less than thrilled to see me. Mr. Banner told the class today would be a quiet chapter review. He assigned pages and questions and said what he expected of our answers, told us we could work with our neighbor and that was that. I pulled my textbook out and felt Layla's eyes on me. She was staring at me, burning holes in my head.

"Do you need something?" I asked, annoyed.

"Nothing at all. Not from you." She spat. This really set me over the edge.

"What is your problem? Are you upset with what you saw last night? Because that was none of your business," I said just as petulantly.

"None of my business? I think it was my business. Now I know what you're really like. Thank goodness I was there,"

"Don't even try to sound like you're better than me. And don't even try to suggest I'm a bad person. You know very well I'm not just another asshole and I shouldn't have to defend myself to you. Why does this matter? It's not like you give a flying shit about me," I said, working myself up. I didn't normally cuss like this.

"I don't care about you? Where did that come from?" she sounded honestly puzzled.

"You take off without a second thought! And I'm supposed to know when you're coming back? And I'm supposed to know I'm not allowed to kiss another girl? You didn't even want to kiss me! You ran away! What was I supposed to think?" It was a good thing everyone in the class was talking, because we were getting pretty loud.

Layla didn't seem to know what to say. Served her right. She knew I had a point and she took a minute to think it over.

"I… I'm sorry. I assumed you kissing another girl would never happen. Even without me saying anything about it," she said quietly. That was a kick in the stomach. She assumed I couldn't get another girl anyway, so why worry about it? She assumed she was my only option.

"Wow. Well I get it now! That's really fucked up. Don't worry about it anymore, there was never anything between us and I guess there never will be." I shoved my seat as far from her as I could and turned my back on her. I finished all the work before class ended.

I kept my pissy mood for the rest of the day, deciding I had good reason. I stormed to my car, slamming the door louder than usual. I sped home to crumple onto my bed again. I had a lot to figure out.

Maggie. She was amazing. Smart, gorgeous, funny, sweet, amazing at kissing. And she was completely honest with me, completely open. I learned more about her in two days than I had Layla in the months we sat next to each other at school. I really, really liked Maggie. I could see myself being in a serious relationship with her, easily.

Layla. She was… I didn't even know. Smart, mind-blowingly beautiful, and other than that, a complete puzzle. She had just seemed to warm up to me before she went MIA, expecting me to be loyal to her in her absence. That was pretty arrogant. But then she had every reason to be arrogant, as far as I could tell. She had a hell of a lot of explaining to do before I would think about dating her again, though. And I found that, despite everything that had happened today with her, I still couldn't get rid of my attraction to her. It was like a sickness. I had no control over it.

Now, mixing the two. Maggie said the Kelbys were a large, rare, smart kind of fish. That was peculiar. But she had been hinting at something else. A mix between human and fish… the only thing I could come up with was mermaid, and that was absurd. Mermaids didn't exist, just like vampires and werewolves and unicorns. But maybe that would explain all the weirdness that surrounded Layla and her family…

On a whim I turned my computer on. One little Google search wouldn't hurt anyone. And I didn't have much homework anyway. Why not? I typed in 'mermaid' and spent about twenty minutes ruling out all the idiotic stuff. Finally I came to a semi-intelligent looking page on the history and questionable reality of mermaids.

_Often called sirens, the mermaid creature has most recently been attributed to good nature, as in_

_Disney's 'The Little Mermaid', but these developments are misleading. The little-known mermaid that_

_appears throughout ancient literature is a dangerous, terrible beast bent on causing destruction and_

_havoc among the open seas._

_The most obvious account in ancient literature would be the Sirens of __The Odyssey__. Their enchantingvoices draw in sailors, causing shipwrecks and disappearances. The thousands of mysterious missing_

_ships with no proven crashes cause speculation that mermaids and sirens must still exist today._

The rest of the site was an alphabetized listing of all the literary references and different myths of mermaids held throughout the world. I read through dozens, finding that the most common mermaid or siren characteristics were extremely pale, sometimes glowing skin, a long, thick head of hair, physically changing skin temperature, and an unnatural appeal to humans. That all seemed to fit.

But what about all the other aspects of sirens? The gruesome, dangerous tales about hundreds of shipwrecks and thousands of missing sailors. The alluring nature of the sirens that drew humans in to never be seen again. That had to be all myth. If, and it was a huge if, Layla was anything like a mermaid or siren, she hadn't tried to draw me in. In fact, she had done a heck of a good job pushing me away.

And then what did this make Maggie? Some kind of mermaid hunter?

This was too much to think about. I shoved it all to the back of my mind and got ready to make a late dinner. I had heard Nadia doing something downstairs earlier and I knew she would be waiting for me for dinner. I flipped off the computer and went down.

"Hey, sorry I haven't started anything to eat yet, I lost track of time," I apologized when I saw Nadia.

"So? I'm the adult, you're the kid, that's okay," she chuckled. I smiled.

I started dinner, a chicken casserole, and kept my mind distracted with that.

"I heard you and Maggie hit it off last weekend," Nadia said, hungry for gossip. I had to laugh.

"Yeah. At the beach and at a party in Pasadena. She's really cool, I like her a lot," I answered honestly. She looked pleased.

"That's great! I'm always worried about her meeting some sleazebag that doesn't deserve her, but you! It's great!" she was obviously thrilled. And again I was the nice guy that would never hurt his girl. It was good, I guess, but getting pretty annoying.

"Yep. Now how much casserole do you want?" I changed the subject.

We had a nice dinner. Afterwards I took a book outside to the back deck and lay down. I knew I wouldn't really get much reading done. I forced myself to focus on the two most vital questions I had to answer.

First, I had to decide if the Kelbys were sirens. My first, logical, practical instinct told me no. Of course not. The more I thought about it though the more it made sense. Why else would they all have the same skin? The same hair? A special group? That special alluring draw that kept me wanting Layla? And perhaps most incriminating, why had Layla's skin changed temperature when I kissed her?

The best answer I could come up with was that it was a possibility. And that was crazy itself.

Second, Maggie or Layla? I wasn't the kind of guy to even try to pull off two girls at once, and today Layla had made it obvious it was her or Maggie, no in between. But then did we even have anything, Layla and I? Maggie and I obviously did, and I liked what we had very much. I didn't even want to imagine her face if I had to tell her I was choosing a Kelby, the thing she hunted, I guessed, over her.

The best answer I could come up with for that question was to continue things with Maggie and see what happened with Layla.

Feeling somewhat better, though I had really come to no great conclusions, I went up to bed. On my way the phone rang and Nadia brought it to me. It was Jesse.

"Hey! That party was great wasn't it?!" He said happily.

I laughed. "Sure was. What's up?"

"Do you wanna go with me and Luke paintballing tomorrow night?" I guessed I was in his close circle now. I didn't mind. I liked Jesse. I didn't so much like Luke though.

"You sure Luke doesn't mind me going?" I asked cautiously.

"Ah forget him. You coming?" he sounded unworried.

"Okay, sure. See you tomorrow."

"Aight. Peace, man." And we hung up. I cleared it with Nadia and went to bed.

The next morning was clear and pretty again, renewing my hope that things would get better. Or maybe just less confusing. I checked my email to find my dad's multiple attempts last night to talk to me. Guilt pulled me down into the chair to respond.

**Dad,**

**Sorry I haven't responded. I actually went to a Cali party last night. Crazy, right? I got messed up but Nadia, the cleaning lady, she's awesome. She took care of me. I haven't done anything stupid yet, I think, so stop worrying. Betsy's here about %5 of the time, but I expected it, so it's okay. I'm doing pretty well. Tell Susan hello for me, **

**Dan.**

I figured that was the best I could do for now. I showered, got dressed, and picked up the breakfast sandwich Nadia had made for me on my way out.

The day went fairly well, none of my teachers were mad at my absence yesterday, and I got good grades back. Lunch went well, Jesse and Luke promising to take me out tonight, and me happy to get some frustration out. I looked over anxiously only to find a missing Layla. I wasn't sure if I was upset, but I relaxed quite a bit.

The rest of the day was as good and calm as the beginning, and I almost ran to Jesse's Mustang when the last bell rang. My excitement increased exponentially as we actually drove out of the city limits.


	8. Chapter 8 Port Angeles

Jesse drove pretty fast, so we made it to the paintball place by four. The place was huge. There was the front office where you paid for balls, guns, gear, etc., the locker rooms where you put your stuff away and changed, the showers in the back in case you get too much paint on you, the gear room where you chose what you wanted, and the field itself. It was massive. About the size of a football field, but full of different obstacles and things to hide behind.

Even if I wasn't an extremely physical guy, I was excited.

I brought plenty of money because I wasn't sure how much everything would be, so I was covered when we got all the gear without using about half the money I brought. We picked up our armor and went back in the locker room to change and put our stuff away.

When we were all ready we stepped onto the field and war began.

It lasted about an hour and a half and I actually fared better than I thought I would. I didn't win, but I did well. We went back to the locker room and started changing, when I realized my crazy hair was too pink to go back into public without showering. Luke and Jesse agreed to go get the car and scan restaurants for dinner while I showered. They'd come back in thirty minutes.

I grabbed the backpack I had brought with my change of clothes and walked to the showers. I stripped and stepped in the tiny shower. It took forever to get the paint out. I'm sure I had an afro by the time I stepped out. I was the only one in there when I pulled a towel from the shelf, and I was thankful for that because I had never been comfortable being naked around a bunch of naked guys. I chuckled to myself and wrapped the towel around my waist. All of a sudden I heard a noise. It shouldn't have, there were tons of other guys that came through here, but it made me tense. It sounded like the shuffling of boots. I straightened up; so someone else was coming. So what? But something seemed wrong.

The man stepped from behind the corner. His posture alerted me that he meant no well, if his outfit didn't do the trick. He was dressed in black jeans, a black t-shirt, and a dark, dirty trench coat, along with work boots. That was not typical California attire. Along with this, he was grimy all over, hunched in a defensive position, and wielding a rusty knife.

And I was staring meekly back in nothing but a fluffy white towel.

He lurched forward, knife heading at me first, and I ducked. I leapt to the side when he came tumbling into the wall where I was standing. He jerked to the side where I was squatting and I backed up as quickly as my wet body and the loose towel would let me.

"I'll give you my money! What do you want?!" I shouted, trying to get through to him. But he didn't care. I scrambled to my feet as he marched toward me knife getting dangerously close to my chest. My foot slipped on the rubber floor mat and I fell down, towel falling open leaving me on my hands and knees. The man was over top of me now, I could see his shadow above me on the ground, and I just waited for the blow.

But it never came.

I looked up very slowly to a scene I in no way understood.

Layla was standing a foot from the man, eyes locked with his. I was in between them, still wet with shower water and sweat with wearing nothing but a towel draped over my back. As slow as I could, I pushed from my hands and knees to a squatting position, rewrapping the towel around me. Slowly, painfully slowly I rose to standing, looking at what was happening. Their eyes were locked together, Layla concentrating for all she was worth and the man under a trance, ready to do anything she wanted. She kept her eyes connected with the man's, but turned her chin to me.

"Get your stuff and go out to my car." She said quietly. I didn't ask a question. Normally I wouldn't leave a girl in a men's locker room with a crazed homeless man with a knife, but this was not a normal situation and Layla was not a normal girl. I knew she could take care of herself and I knew everything would turn out better if I got out of there and let her handle him by herself. I nodded and slowly walked out of the room.

I changed into my clothes faster than I ever had in my life and practically ran to the parking lot. I spotted her car quickly and jogged over to it. I took a deep breath and let it out before everything hit me.

I was leaning over her car with my head down when I felt her beside me. I looked under my arm at her. She hesitated, then rubbed her hand up and down my back. I closed my eyes and let out another deep breath. I straightened up and tried to steady myself. I looked down at her and, to my great surprise she wrapped her arms around me and put her head to my chest. I forgot trying to steady myself and pulled her closer to me. I rested my head on hers and inhaled that wonderful scent. I had too many questions to ask right then, I just followed her instructions and climbed into the passenger seat.

Slouching down in my seat, I lay my forehead against the window. I waited for her to speak first.

"There's a lot of crazy people around Los Angeles," she said quietly, but very obviously angry.

"I see. Thank you. For whatever you did," I responded at almost a whisper.

"You tired of me walking in and rescuing you when you're close to naked?" she said, trying to lighten the mood and distract herself.

"I wish it was like that," was all I could say.

"Are you all right? I didn't get there too late did I?" we still weren't looking at each other, but the anger was plain in her voice.

"I'm fine. You saved me. Again," I responded begrudgingly.

"Do you have a problem with me helping you? Would you rather be dead now? Twice over?" I knew she wasn't mad at me, she was mad at the man, but it was still annoying.

"No, Layla. Thank you. Twice over. It's just incredibly irritating not knowing what you are or why you keep helping me. How you knew where I was and what was happening. How you're the man in any situation involving us," it felt good being honest.

"Don't beat yourself up, you're definitely a man. I'm just… something else. Something else with a temper that really isn't wise," more cryptic remarks.

"I don't doubt that there's a lot you could do. I just wish you thought you could be honest with me," to my absolute horror and as even more illustration of the point I made earlier, I started to tear up.

"Damnit, Layla! What the hell are you and why don't you trust me? I'm not an idiot! I know you're not like me! And you know I deserve to have the truth!" I was yelling now, yelling in her face as she stared at the road. Her blue eyes filled up, but not with normal tears. A blue almost as bright as her eyes started leaking down her perfect face.

"You don't know how hard this is for me," still in that quiet, controlled voice.

"No! I don't know! So tell me! Please! If I'm not trustworthy enough then stop here. Let me out. If you're not going to talk to me we might as well end whatever the hell this is right now." Now I was being a man. Now I was controlling the relationship. And now I was making Layla cry. Cry thick blue tears.

"I'll tell you," her eyes flickered shut, then open again. "I'll tell you tonight. Just shhh, for now just shh," she spoke like a tired old woman. I slumped back into my seat and put my head back against the window.

We pulled up to a Chinese restaurant. I heard Layla's door open. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm taking you to dinner," She tried to smile at me, but the blue tint where she wiped the tears away ruined it. She stepped out of the car and pushed the door shut. I quickly got out to meet her on the sidewalk. She handed me her cell phone.

"Call your friends. I don't want to run into them right now." She said in a monotone. I called and told Jesse everything was okay and I had a ride home. He was fine with it and we hung up quickly.

"I'm not really hungry," I told Layla.

"You should eat something." Her voice was authoritative and even though I felt like she was being the man again, I complied. I walked ahead of her and opened the door. She shook her head with a grin and went through.

The restaurant wasn't crowded. Our host was male, and I had to stop myself from saying something when he glanced over Layla. He smiled smugly at her when he said "Table for two?" and I really would have liked to punch him. Instead I cleared my throat, draped my arm over her shoulder and nodded. He got the message.

"Thanks, Mr. Macho. Was that necessary?" she whispered to me.

"With the way he was looking at you, yes, very much so." I replied just as quietly. Her skin that I was touching was warmer than normal body temperature, but I couldn't tell what that meant.

"Can we get a booth?" she said sweetly to the host, and he nodded happily. He lead us to a back corner where he put two menus down and asked what drinks we'd like.

"None, thanks," Layla said, glancing at the menu, uninterested.

"A Sprite please." I answered.

When the host left, I said "Do you do that often?"

"Do what?"

"Flash that cute smile and get whatever you want," I responded, more amused than annoyed. She smiled a natural smile, one that nearly took my breath away.

"Does it work on _you_?" she said coyly.

"Every time," I admitted reluctantly.

The male server showed up with my drink and asked Layla, and only Layla, what she wanted to eat. Layla looked at me expectantly.

"Oh. Um. I'll have the… chicken lo mein?" I responded. With one last desperate look at Layla he disappeared.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Really. The shock has worn off. Now I'm just tired," I answered lamely.

"You don't feel dizzy? Like you're going to be sick?" she was really worried.

"Nope. Not at all." I said confidently.

She examined me, then shook her head. "I'll still feel better once you've had something to eat."

Right on cue the server appeared with my plate, and I was more than sure the fast service had everything to do with Layla. I took a huge sip if my Sprite, incredibly thirsty. I realized I had never really paid attention to anything besides Layla's face. Tonight she was wearing a sleeveless emerald top that made her skin and hair stand out even more. She was also wearing tight dark jeans that showed off her flawless figure.

"You're eyes are a gorgeous green," she said, interrupting my ogling.

"Oh, thank you," I looked down, embarrassed, at my dinner. I was suddenly hungry.

She laughed. "Don't look down when someone compliments your eyes," she said softly. I smiled up at her.

"Eat!" she said, more happy now.

"Really! I'm fine! And your eyes are a really pretty shade of blue tonight," I said,

She had been staring into my eyes, and I saw how light hers were, lighter than I could remember seeing them. They were almost a sky blue now.

She stared at me, stunned. "What?"

"Well, your eyes change, you know. From a light blue to almost navy. Surely people notice that?" I said, just as stunned.

"This is more complicated than I had planned," she murmured to herself, and rested her head in her hand. I forked a mouthful in, chewing slowly, measuring her expression.

"Do you have any more theories?" she asked, weary.

"Mm hm. I'll tell you about them in the car. If…" I trailed off.

"There are conditions?" she sounded amused.

"I do have a few questions, of course."

"Of course."

I took another couple bites of my chicken lo mein.

"Well go ahead!" she exclaimed. I smiled. I started with the easiest, in my mind.

"Why are you in the area?"

She looked down, folding her delicate hands together slowly on the table. Her eyes flickered up at me from under her long lashes, the hint of a smirk on her face.

"Next." She said simply.

"But that's the easiest!" I objected. She shook her head. "Next." She repeated.

I sighed. "Okay… let's say a person has the ability to sense emotions. Maybe even thoughts. How would that work, exactly?"

"Hypothetically?" she asked.

"Sure."

"Well, maybe the ability has more to do with prediction and paying attention, than sensing emotions and thoughts…" she said very vaguely. "Naturally the crazed knifeman would come across you." She elaborated.

"We were speaking of a hypothetical case," I reminded her jokingly.

She laughed at me. But I wasn't satisfied.

"Really, how did you know?" I asked, involuntarily leaning into her. She seemed to be debating with herself internally, unable to make some decision about me.

"You can trust me," I said, getting frustrated again.

"I don't know if I have a choice anymore," she said in a sad whisper. "I was wrong, you're much more observant than I gave you credit for."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"I'm not sure," she shook her head again. "You're also much more of a magnet for trouble than I originally thought. If there is anything dangerous within a ten-mile radius, it will invariably find you."

"And you put yourself into that category?" I guessed.

Her face picked up that hard mask. "Most definitely."

I dropped my fork and reached across the table to touch my fingertips to her hand. Her skin was ice cold.

"Thank you, Layla. Really. For everything." I was being completely genuine.

"Let's not make it three times, okay?" her voice was full of desperation. I nodded enthusiastically.

"I followed you here." She admitted reluctantly. "I've never tried to keep a specific person alive before, and it's much more troublesome than I would have believed. But that's probably just because it's you. Ordinary people seem to make it through the day without so many catastrophes." She paused, cocking her head sideways. I wondered if I should find her following me creepy, because I really had no objections to it.

"Did it ever occur to you that my number was up the day at the pool? That you've been interfering with fate ever since? Or even today," I speculated.

"That wasn't the first time," her voice frosty and crystal clear. I stared at her, shocked, but she couldn't meet my eyes. "You're number was up the first time I met you."

I waited for the nasty wave of fear to go through me, but the only thing that happened was my hear beat increased. I thought of the terribly nasty glare the first day, her dark eyes full of hatred. But the moment we were having right now was completely different. I couldn't bring myself to fear her. I knew very well she was nothing good or safe, but I couldn't muster up an ounce of fear of her. Finally she met my eyes. I could tell she was surprised at my lack of concern.

"You remember?" she asked, her perfect face grave.

"Yes." I was calm.

"And yet here you sit." There was a trace of disbelieve in her voice; she raised one dark orange eyebrow.

"Yes, here I sit. Because of you. Because somehow you knew how to find me today…?" I prompted.

She pressed her bright pink lips together, staring at me through blue eyes that were deep in thought.

"You eat, I'll talk," she bargained. I nodded.

"Usually it's fairly easy to keep track of a person. Usually I can find someone very easily, once I've experienced their presence." She looked at me anxiously, but I didn't react. I had assumed something like this already. I finished chewing and smiled up at her.

"I was keeping tabs on Jesse, kind of, not very intently but enough to get an idea of what was going on. It took me a while to figure out you had separated from him. When I did realize that, I started picking up thoughts, emotions, from people around the fields, the building. When I got a terrible, violent, malicious mind so close to you, I decided to intervene," she was visibly trying to calm herself, getting upset at the man again, I supposed. I took a bite, waited a minute, then pressed her to go on.

"I opened the door to the place and was overwhelmed by the hostility. And by your fear. I knew what was going on, sort of. So I stormed in and…" she thought she was done explaining.

"I saw what you were doing with your eyes. Go on." I demanded.

"It's a way to make people do what I want them to… I just made him calm down and give me the knife. I left him confused, not knowing what had happened. I didn't do anything to him. Though I should have." She sounded regretful.

I sat quietly, still eating so I wouldn't have to talk, my thoughts everywhere. She was looking at her hands again, almost ashamed. Finally she looked up, her eyes seeking mine, full of her own questions.

"Are you ready to go home?" she settled on.

"I'm ready to leave," I qualified, extremely happy at the long ride ahead of us. I wasn't nearly ready to say goodbye to her yet. Layla called the waiter over, decidedly better at handling him, and we got the check. She reached for her wallet.

"Please, Layla. Let me have my dignity." I said simply. She let me pay.

We walked to her car and I got in, and then watched the way she glided neatly into her seat. I probably should have been used to that by now, but I wasn't. I had a feeling Layla wasn't the kind of person anyone got used to.

Layla pulled out through the traffic swiftly, apparently without a glance, flipping around to head toward the freeway.

She cleared her throat. "Now, it's your turn."


	9. Chapter 9 Theory

"Can I ask just one more?" I pleaded as Layla accelerated much more quickly than I would have anticipated down the loud street. She didn't seem to be paying any attention to the road.

She sighed. "One," she agreed. Her pink lips were pressed together again.

"How did you know exactly which room to find me in? There were at least two men's lockers, the shower rooms, the gear room, the field, the office. How did you know?"

She looked away, almost ashamed again.

"I thought we were past this…" I reminded her. She almost smiled.

"Fine. I followed your scent." She looked over at me, gauging my reaction. I pondered that for a minute, decided to think about it more when I was home.

"And then you didn't answer one of my first questions…" I started. She looked frustrated.

"Which one?"

"How does it work? The sixth sense of yours? Whatever it is you can do? And does the rest of your family have that ability?" I should have felt silly, but I was past reality by now. Every mythical creature I'd ever heard of could very well be real, at this point.

"That's more than one… but no. I'm the only one that has that. And I can generally sense what a person is feeling, if they're really extremely emotional I might be able to pick up an exact thought. But that's only in extreme circumstances. I can't normally just read thoughts. It's more emotions. And usually I tune it out, or else everyone else's emotions would take over me. That is, besides you. Every once in a while I pick up a feeling, but never a distinct thought. You're more like static, white noise. And it kills me." She shook her head.

I thought about that a moment. "And you have no idea why that is?"

Layla responded "Nope. I think it may be because your mind, your system doesn't work the same way the rest of theirs do. But that's all I can think of," she smirked at me.

"Curious…" I didn't know what to say to that.

"But it's just a theory. Which happens to bring us back to you." She spoke slowly, enjoying it.

I sighed. Might as well be straightforward. But how to word it…

"I won't laugh," she promised, smirk still intact.

"I'm more afraid you'll be upset…"

"Is it that bad?"

"I'm not sure. Depends if it's true."

She waited. I was looking out the window, so I couldn't see her expression.

"Go ahead, Dan." Her voice was calm.

"Well, I got the idea from a friend. Who will remain nameless for the sake of that person. And I developed it… I did a lot of research… on mermaids. Sirens, more specifically." I didn't have to look at her face to see her tense up. Her knuckles went white on the steering wheel and her body went rigid.

"And that's what you think we are?" her tone didn't reveal anything. I rubbed my forehead nervously.

"Well, I don't know. But I decided, tonight actually, that it didn't matter." My tone was stronger than I thought I could manage.

"It didn't _matter_?" Her tone made me look up, I had finally broken through that terrible mask. Her face was incredulous, with more than a small amount of the anger I'd feared.

"No," the tone was gathering strength. "It doesn't matter to me what you are."

A hard, mocking edge entered her musical voice, making it very, very scary. "You don't care if I'm a monster?! If I'm not _human_?!"

"No." still no falter.

She was silent, staring straight ahead. Her face was bleak and cold.

"This was why I wanted to leave it alone."

"No," she said, but her tone had softened no more than her face. "I'd rather know what you're thinking- even if what you're thinking is idiotic and insane."

"So I'm wrong again?" I challenged, with edge in my voice now too.

"That's not what I'm referring to. 'It doesn't matter'!" she exclaimed, mocking me but not telling me I was wrong.

"I'm right?" I couldn't keep the shock from my voice.

"I thought it didn't matter!"

"It doesn't, but I am curious. I think I have a right to know." I was happy I hadn't lost it yet. I was just as firm and composed as Layla.

"What are you curious about?" her tone was hushed now.

"How old are you?"

"Depends what unit you're measuring with." She stalled.

"Human?" I was beyond frustrated.

"Seventeen." she answered promptly.

"Mermaid?" I begged.

"Much older." She admitted finally. At least she was being honest now. She stared across at me with watchful eyes, and I smiled a real smile at her. She frowned.

"Don't laugh, but how can you get wet without… turning?"

She laughed anyway, but with the sound it made I didn't mind. "Myth. Only ocean water."

"Do you turn into sea foam when you die?"

"Myth."

"Friends with all sea critters?"

"Myth."

"Lovely singing voice?"

Another laugh. "That's a matter of opinion."

"What about sleeping?" Curiosity seeped into my voice.

She hesitated, then said in a peculiar voice "I can't sleep."

"At all?"

"Never," she said, her voice less than a whisper. She turned to look at me with a wistful expression. Her shockingly blue eyes held mine, and I lost my train of thought. I stared at her until she looked away.

"What about the most important issue," Her voice was hard again, and when she turned back to me her face had found the mask.

"I'm not sure I want to know," I said quietly, returning her stare.

"Oh, but you have to know," her voice was very harsh.

"What do you feed on?" I was whispering now, already knowing her response.

"Humans." She spat it at me and turned her head back to the road.

"There's no alternative…?" I asked desperately, almost silently.

"No, Daniel. There is no alternative." Her voice, hard, mocking, cut my insides. I couldn't speak. I had been thinking of ways to overlook that, but now, being so openly addressed, I had nothing.

"Not so easy now, is it?" her voice wavered, and I saw her eyes filling with blue again.

I could only think to say "Tell me more." Quietly.

Blue streamed down her face for the second time tonight. "Full moon requires at least one feeding to sustain life. It's done far out in the ocean. My family tries to be good. Many do it for sport, for game. But we try to be good. Mistakes can be made though… tonight for instance. Me, allowing myself to be alone with you." the blue was rolling down unceasingly now. I wanted so badly to wipe at them.

"This is a mistake?" I asked, sadness overwhelming my voice.

"A very dangerous one."

We were both silent. The blue rolling down her face slowed a little.

I resumed the conversation. "Why don't you hunt for sport?" I made sure to keep my tone gentle.

"I don't _want _to be a monster!" she looked over at me, hurt.

"Then that makes you better than most of your kind," I tried to point out a positive.

"Daniel, don't delude yourself. I'm a killer! A murderer, a beast. Right this moment you have no idea how difficult being in this car with you is!"

"But you're not hungry now," I stated.

"Why do you think that?"

"Well, it's another theory. I suspected the darker your eyes, the more you needed to hunt. Your eyes are the lightest I've ever seen them today. So… you've hunted very recently." It made me look at her differently. But I still couldn't muster up the fear.

"You are observant, aren't you?" she shook her head.

"Were you hunting this weekend? With Erin?" I tried to connect the dots.

"Yes… I didn't want to leave, but it was necessary. It's a bit easier to be around you when I'm not hungry."

"Why didn't you want to leave?"

"It makes me… anxious… to be away from you." Her eyes were gentle but intense, making my stomach flip. "I was worried about you the whole time. With good reason. And after what happened today, I'm surprised that you did make it through the weekend alive. And… about the party…" she paused, not knowing how to continue. I felt myself tense.

"I'm sorry for my comment. When I'm mad, or jealous, I tend to get bitchy. I said that because I do know you're not another asshole and I never guessed you'd be at that party, let alone glued to some other girl's mouth," It sounded like an apology… but I couldn't be sure. I accepted it anyway.

"No, I know I'm not a typical partier. But… that comment was uncalled for. And about her… what am I supposed to do now? What do we have here?" Maggie's face filled my mind.

Layla blew out a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm still hoping you'll come to your senses and run while you can, to be quite honest."

"So… you're telling me to keep my relationship with her? I'm really getting mixed messages here," Layla or Maggie? Layla or Maggie?

"I'll leave that up to you, Dan." Her tone gave nothing away. I groaned to myself. She continued. "I'm not completely sure what we are either. But about that kiss, in the kitchen?" As if I could forget it. "That was incredibly stupid." Okay, not what I expected. "Not of you, though it was pretty stupid of you, but of me. I could have moved away fast enough but I didn't. You have no idea how difficult that was for me!" She glanced over at me, saw that I had no regrets, and shook her head.

"How was I supposed to know, at that time, that you had a strong desire to kill me? I mean really," I felt my smug grin and didn't try to suppress it. Layla had chosen, even though it was dangerous for both of us, to let me kiss her. That had to count for something.

"Stop smiling! It was terrible!" she was trying to keep her face blank, but I could see the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile. After a minute or two though, the moment passed. Her face was back to unhappy. I would do anything to bring the smile back.

"Ah," she groaned to herself. "This is wrong."

"Did I say something?" I was confused.

"It was one thing when it was just me being miserable trying to stay away from you, but a totally different matter for you to be so involved." Her eyes were full of anguish, but I couldn't take back my feelings for her. Her words, usually deliberate, came out in a messy rush. "Daniel I don't want you getting close to me. I don't want to hear that you have feelings for me. It's wrong. It's incredibly dangerous. I am not someone you should associate with, in any way. Do you hear me? I am dangerous! Please, Dan. Please grasp that!" She was staring into my eyes in the last few words, and I could tell she was being completely honest. But for the life of me, I couldn't make myself fear. I couldn't. I felt a connection with this girl, this monster, this whatever, and I couldn't make myself afraid of her. It was incredibly stupid of me, both of us knew that, but I couldn't change it now.

"I do grasp that."

"Then what are you doing here?!" she snapped.

"I told you. It doesn't matter to me what you are. It's too late for me to change-"

She cut me off. "Never say that!" I was silent. More than anything, I was angry. Furious. She wasn't the only one in a tight spot and she could at least hear me out. I couldn't just forget her now, even if I kept up my relationship with Maggie. I wasn't the normal asshole guy and she wasn't the normal slutty girl. I started to imagine what we would be like together… then stopped. No use in getting my hopes up. I would only get hurt more in the end anyway.

"What are you thinking?" her voice was still sharp.

"None of your damned business." I retorted. She suddenly cared?

She groaned again. "I'm sorry." Her voice was regretful, but I was still pissed. She looked over at me but I kept my eyes looking out the window.

"How can you even think about having a relationship with me? I'm a murderer…" she was genuinely wondering. She had a point, a point that I would think over later, but I didn't feel like responding now.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" I kept the anger in my voice, more as a point than anything.

"Yes, I have a paper due." She gave a tired smile. "I'll save you a seat at lunch, if you want." She almost whispered the last part. It was absolutely ridiculous with the past twenty four hours how much that little promise meant to me.

We were in front of my house. I didn't want to get out. I didn't want this night to be over, and I didn't want Layla to vanish in a puff of smoke like I had been waiting to happen since I first met her. Neither of us moved.

"Do you promise to be there tomorrow?" I asked quietly.

"I promise." She answered, just as quietly. I considered that for a moment, and then nodded slowly. I pulled the handle and pushed the door open. By the time I was out, holding my bag, Layla had also gotten out and walked around the car to my door. She looked up at me and smiled sadly. I sighed.

"Can I hug you?" I hesitated. Her mouth widened to a real smile now.

"Sure."

I dropped my bag and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into me slowly; slowly enough, I hoped, so that it wasn't very hard for her. She circled her arms around my waist and leaned into me, resting her forehead against my neck. I closed my eyes and breathed out. Her heavenly scent surrounded me. When I opened them I looked down to her. She inhaled deeply, taking me in I supposed. When she opened her eyes and looked back up at me, her irises were visibly darker. It made my heart beat faster, but I wasn't scared. I let go and she pulled away.

"Goodnight, Daniel." Layla said softly. I loved the way she said my name.

"Goodnight, Layla." I smiled. I picked up my bag, turned up my walkway and went inside; my last glimpse of her was Layla standing next to her beautiful car, putting it to shame.

In a daze I tripped up the steps and found my room. I dropped my bag and stripped, deciding a hop in the shower would probably do me good.

The water was too hot, burning my skin, I realized halfway through. When I got out I was freezing, but I didn't care. I toweled off, put some boxers on, and crashed onto my bed. I turned my light out and let my thoughts take over.

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Layla was a mermaid. Second, there was a part of her, and I didn't know how dominant that part may be, that would love nothing more than to make me her next meal. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with her.

Basically, I was screwed.


End file.
